Heavy Metal Warrior
by Melkor44
Summary: James Slae'im, a martial artist whose bones have been replaced with metal after a tournament's outcome, has been admitted to Yamaku; how will he fare, what will he do? Who will he fall in love with? (Rated "T" for occasional profanity, may change at a later date.)
1. Prologue: Fight Until We Die

**So I'd been on hiatus/unofficial retirement for a while now, when I said, "I'm bored as fuck, I'm gonna replay every single Katawa Shoujo route," so I did exactly that. Then, miraculously, something happened; I wanted to write again. I can't promise that I'm back for good, but I'm here.**

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

I raise my head, craning to look at the clock; it's three-thirty in the morning. Sighing, exhausted, I lay back down and try to sleep; nothing comes.

No sleep ever comes for me, unfortunately. My insomnia runs anywhere from three days to seven, and then I shut down until my body recharges enough to continue the cycle. It's just a sad fact of my life, on on top of the other.

My name is James Slae'im, and after a tournament accident over summer vacation, most of my bones have been replaced with metal. There's enough money to keep up with the blood transfusion costs, thanks to that tournament's winnings, but I can't help that I'm feeling down; I'll never be able to compete again.

Oh, we'll learn enough about me later. Right now, you're probably interested in whatever the hell is going around outside of my head. Sadly for you, that's a fat load of "nothing." Back to me, then...no? Just skip this whole damn monologue? Okay.

* * *

_"There is one option open to him." The doctor said to the sleeping boy's parents. "A school in the northern part of the country, Yamaku, for children with able minds but physical burdens."_

_"Cripples." The boy's father replied. There was no sadness, no disgust, only fact. "The handicapped."_

_"Yes. There's an excellent medical team there, it's privately funded, and given your son's...special case...they may waive most of the fees."_

* * *

That's how my fate was decided. Tomorrow...that is...today, when I'm cleared, I'll get to go home and take all of my things with me to a boarding school. Despite the fact that I'll be in unfamiliar territory, I'm not displeased; my dislike for my family is well-evident in everything we do together, and I'll be free of them for a while. All in all, not too bad.

I just wish it hadn't come with all these scars. They're fine, physically, but they're a painful reminder of things I'd rather not have to deal with. My condition will never be what it once was, I won't be able to do a lot of things until I get completely used to moving around in this body where metal has replaced almost all of the bones.

"What a pain in the ass." I mutter, using my imagination to pass the time with eyes closed, so I won't be as weary as I'd otherwise be; a trick I learned. Humming to myself, an old song I've known since before I became self-aware (according to my father, anyway,) I feed all of my negativity into the song, until nothing but inner peace is left. Not even my inner cynic, asking how I could ever _have _inner peace when I spent my life breaking people's bones, can break the void of emotion.

I hold it for as long as I can, feigning sleep until it's time to get breakfast. My day starts with two glasses each of orange juice and milk, a plate of all kinds of pancakes, bacon and sausage, and (thankfully) no medicine.

After that, I wait to leave the hospital; outwardly, I'm sad to leave behind everything I know and "love." Inside, I'm ecstatic.

Just a few more hours, just a little more time, and I'll be free. I'm waiting, but it won't be much longer.

* * *

The ride there was fairly nice. It passed quickly enough, my father speeding down the road as we listened to our music. I may hate the man, but I can't say I don't owe him for all the things that he's given me; among those is a taste for hard rock, which naturally branched itself into a love for metal.

When we finally arrived, a set of wrought-iron gates greeted us. They swung open, and my first instinct was to say, "I could bend those in half."

"You could." My father had said. I'm still not sure if he'd implied the unspoken _have_, that a time where I might fold metal had passed me by. Maybe he was just agreeing with me. I'll never be certain.

My brothers and sister had come with us, to see me off; my mother had decided to stay at home, rather than take another car. That was fine with me, since it meant one less false smile to give.

I lifted all of my bags at once when they offered to help me move in. It was painful to know that that would be my strength's limit for the time, but I knew that it would improve eventually.

My sister hugged me. "I'll keep them in line." She motioned to our little brothers. She was second-oldest, and the most serious of the four of us...except when it came to my passion for fighting.

My middle brother was next, punching me in the arm with just enough power for me to feel, but not enough to hurt; it was a thing that I'd taught him, a way we showed respect to one another.

My youngest brother spread out his arms, and I picked him up. "I'll miss you." He said. "Good bye." He hugged me, and I realized that he was the only one who I'd feel bad leaving behind. He looked up to me the way neither of the others did. Where my sister saw me as someone to regard with contempt on her path toward the future, and my middle brother saw me as a person who had far more power than he did, (to be feared and awed as such,) I was a god to my youngest brother. Nothing could stop me, because the eldest brother is impossible to bring down.

"I'll miss you, too." I replied.

My father said nothing to me, and I said nothing to him. That's how it always was with us; when he wasn't yelling at me, or attempting to beat me, (before I could beat him back,) when he wasn't pointing out my flaws, criticizing everything I did...he was silent.

The last time he saw me, I gave the disappearing car a salute.

Good riddance. Maybe, without me, they would lead better lives. Maybe not. I'll never really know. Either way, they were gone now.

* * *

A dead friend of mine once said, "fight until you win, or fight until you die. Either way, fight." They were words I lived by after he died in a match. As I toured Yamaku, seeing all manner of teens with various physical disabilities, I realized that his message would fit perfectly with this place. Everyone here didn't let their handicaps stop them, they fought to make the world a better place for themselves and those they cared for; some of them would die, because of the nature of their conditions, but they still fought and would keep fighting.

I would fight alongside them, befriend them. Possibly even love a few of them. What could tell me, barring the future? It would be interesting to find out.

On my way, a few of them caught my eye. Five...no, six, she was just hiding behind that blonde. Seven?

Whichever number it was, they were the ones who stood out most. The blind and the hiding, the deaf and the loud, the full-limbed pair...and maybe just one other one. Maybe.

I continued walking, never approaching anyone, eventually setting my things down on a dry field of grass to lay down and stare toward the sky. There was a distinct "thud" beside me after a few minutes, and my peripherals picked up a red-headed girl mirroring my actions.

"This looks interesting."

"Yeah."

"I wondered why you were doing this. So I did it too, to see." Her speech, almost monosyllabic, takes a long time to come out. "It's nice."

"You talk slowly." I observe.

"I'm not...good with words. Usually. Or people." There's a bit of an edge to that last word, but I leave the subject where it is. We've just met, there's no reason for either of us to get into her life's story.

I do wonder, though, about how her arms went missing. Maybe I'll find out, maybe I won't.

"I need to get going, but it was nice to meet you. I'm James."

"Rin."

As I get up and leave, the thought strikes me that maybe she talks slowly because she's always thinking. It's hard for me to talk and think at the same time, so why wouldn't that apply to others too?

* * *

As I finally finish unpacking my things, I idly realize that I chose a room with nobody else on the floor and nobody in the room directly beneath mine.

My quasi-legendery luck seems to be holding, again, even though it let me down at a time when I needed it most.

It was a long three months in the hospital, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone...I can still use my body, though. There's always a bright side, as the saying goes. Sometimes it just takes a little looking to find.

A little looking, and a fast recovery after a whole hell of a lot of pain.

I begin my exercises, just the way I learned them and taught them to myself, loosening my body and preparing to work my muscles. I transition through the forms of my art slowly, perfect stance to perfect stance, practiced ease showing through even though I will never be able to do them as quickly as I once could. I think on what Rin told me, about not being good with words or people.

I'm not too great with either of those, either. I can certainly fake eloquence, but it's still faking...and I'd rather punch people than talk to them. I used to make a habit out of it, actually.

Still do, kind of. If it were someone else, I might call it sad.

I finished one style's movements, then moved to the next; of my ten black belts, my favorite was Jeet Kune Do, but I always saved that one for last. When I finally finished with the exercises and forms, the moon was out and curfew was in effect...not that I cared. I never care. Rules are for the people who follow them, not for people who don't obey; the only law I adhered to was brute strength, and I was the strongest.

I go to the bathroom and return, foregoing sleep so that I can meditate. It's a simple thing for me to do, anymore, and it's very much what got me through the months in the hospital. When I meditate, there is nothing. in that void of thought and feeling, there exists a single flame; it's smaller than a candle's light, but a flame it remains...all my thoughts and words and actions, all of my feelings, all that I do, is fed into that flame within the void. The flame does not grow, it simply fuels itself on what I feed to it and continues to barely exist. Even in the flame, there is nothingness. When I have achieved the void, in a fight, I do not lose. I defeat them quickly, powerfully, my movements fluid and my ability amplified.

Then I let the flame grow, consuming everything, until the void is filled by fire and can be called a void no longer. When the blaze covers the space in my mind, I do not lose. I cause as much damage and pain as possible, breaking bones and rupturing organs with quick and simple blows.

After the fiery holocaust recedes, I'm left with emptiness and clarity, and don't have to act in order to think as well as I do while moving. The thought strikes me that I have begun yet another fight for my life, a fight against my metal bones and lack of blood-making marrow. I can't lose, or it will mean my death.

I do not lose fights, fortunately, and I don't plan to end that trend with this one.

_Fight until you win, or fight until you die._

I always win.

* * *

**Okay, here's the important part. My idea here is to do all five "main" routes in Katawa Shoujo and see them through to their ends, but considering that that takes a long time to write and plan, I'm thinking of doing it two ways or just doing Rin's and Hanako's routes (since they're my two favorite girls.) I also considered a Miki route since I like tomboys, but I think that may be best left**

**Which of the following should I do?**

**A: do all five routes in a straight-forward style (write Emi's route and finish it, then Hanako's, then Lilly's, then Rin's, then Shizune's, or some such order)**

**B: as A, but with a Miki route as well**

**C: do all five routes in an alternating style (write one chapter for each route, then a second chapter, and so on)**

**D: as C, but with a Miki route as well**

**E: only Rin and Hanako**

**F: only Miki**

**G: just pick one route here and do the rest as separate stories you noncommittal son of a fuck**


	2. Prologue: Dawn of Battle

**Well, I'm here again for chapter two...still waiting for more answers to that poll.**

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

I maneuver myself through the halls well enough, finding my homeroom of class 2-1. As near as I can tell, everyone in this class has all their limbs; whatever's going on with them must be inside, or very well hidden. As roll is called, nobody seems to care that there's a student sitting where a (presumably) empty desk once existed. Or maybe they do care, and nobody wants to ask? Most people here seem fine with their various disabilities, or at least they've learned to live with them; maybe asking is some sort of taboo, or only reserved for close friends.

I notice a trio over in the corner: a blonde, a brunette, and a blue-haired girl, all leaning in close and seeming to whisper.

Egocentrically, I wonder if those murmurs are about me. Maybe it's the fact that my name isn't Japanese, and I don't look Japanese? I'm not originally from Japan, so both of those would be valid ideas. Do they wonder what my disability is? I'm no fool, I know I only got into Yamaku on spit and a prayer, but that's a tale for another time.

My eyes scan the room, and I know my expression is one of anger. I don't intend for it to be that way, it just...is.

There's no real teaching going on today, so I allow myself to meditate through the flame and the void. When the teacher calls on me, I don't release it. I stand, give my answer, and sit. He probably thought I wasn't paying attention, since my eyes were closed and my face was tilting down.

Well, screw him. Maybe he's learned his lesson now. Maybe not. Either way, doesn't really matter to me. As long as I can hold the flame and the void, I can do anything.

Class continues, and then changes. I'm still holding on through math, English, Japanese, and history. I let go during lunch, and resume it afterward. Once all of the classes are done, I go to the nurse's office.

He's a nice enough guy, though I don't particularly enjoy his humor. After getting blood into my body, since I can't make enough of it on my own anymore, I thank him and leave.

* * *

I'm cornered in a hallway, quickly enough, by the trio I noticed in homeroom. "Slae'im." The blonde says.

"That's me. You are?"

"Lilly Satou."

"I'm Misha. Shicchan is deaf, so I translate for her! Wahahaha!"

"A pleasure." I give them the most mind-numbing, get-on-with-it sort of stare that I can come up with. It's a cross between glaring and rolling my eyes, and it's generally proven effective

Lilly can't see it, unfortunately, but Misha and Shizune both seem taken aback...until Shizune gives a wicked grin, like I'm some prey to be hunted down. Lilly, though, can hear the sarcasm in my words. Poor Misha, she has to suffer the full effects of my wrath alone.

"I don't appreciate your tone...my friends and I just wanted to welcome you, since we're the junior representatives for the student council. Does that deserve your reaction?"

"It does when you approach me out of nowhere after I leave the nurse's office, then spread out to surround me so that I couldn't escape without beating the three of you into the ground."

There's no way that could have been Lilly's idea, and I've relegated Misha (after her classroom performances and the fact that she's Shizune's translator) to a position of secondary importance in my mind. Even as Shizune receives my words through Misha, my glare is fully focused on her and she knows without a doubt that she's made a mistake.

"That's rather...violent." Lilly observes.

"I'm a violent person. It's part of what landed me here."

I place the bait, waiting for one of them to take it, when I hear something behind me. Turning, there's a twin-tailed girl running through the hall on a collision course with me; stepping aside would mean that one of the three girls behind me would be hurt, and I'd hate for that to be the impression I leave. With that in mind, I tense my body and watch with no small amount of amusement as the girl slams into my metal chest plate and rebounds off of me, to the floor.

"Jeez! What are you, a wall of bricks?"

"You're the one who ran into me."

"Ah, Ibarazaki. You should know the rules about running through halls by now. Fortunately, nothing happened this time...but what if this man had weak organs in his chest? You could have killed him."

"We've had this conversation before, Emi. Please don't make us tell you again."

Emi looked down, sullen, before pushing herself up and bounding away.

"She ran away." There was no questioning in Lilly's voice.

"I take it she does that a lot." If anything, Lilly's unseeing assessment is what gave that away.

"Yes." All three of them answer at once, though Shizune only signs.

* * *

The next day, I make an effort to not seem too angry or tired; rather than hold to the flame and the void, avoiding all emotion and speaking only when spoken to, I give off a few smiles and introduce myself to other students. They don't ask about why I'm here...maybe they can see the hints of scars peeking out from my collar. Maybe they don't care. I wouldn't put either option past anyone, given that I don't know them very well.

As the lunch bell rings, and I wander through the halls, I decide to skip lunch. I've avoided my meditation for a little too long, and what better place than one renowned for its silence?

I sit down on the floor in the middle of the fiction section, and the void is all that exists within me. There's a girl sitting on a beanbag just a foot or two away, and every so often she raises her eyes to look at me. Does she think I can't tell, or is she just scared? I do tend to give off an aura of anger, or so I've been told. It's helped keep me from getting into unneeded fights over the years.

"Yes?" My voice is...softer than usual. This girl is obviously far too shy to approach with loudness or anything that could possibly seem threatening.

Soft voice. Soft words. Not easy for someone who's more used to fighting their way out of a situation than talking.

"I...um..." She looks down. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I just noticed that you keep looking at me. Anything you want to ask?" Gentle. Placid. Calm. A sunflower reaching out toward its namesake.

"No."

"You're wondering what I'm doing here without a book."

She looks taken aback, but nods in embarrassment.

"Meditating. It's quiet here, so I came."

She stares glumly at her lap. "Sorry."

"Oh, I can talk and focus at the same time. It's easy, once you manage it the first couple times." This is going well. Much better than I might have thought. "What's your name?"

"...Hanako."

"I'm James."

The bell rings, telling us to go to class, but we both stay...this time, in silence.

* * *

The lines flow through my mind as I practice my stances out in an empty field, now that the sports teams have gone inside.

Idly, I realize that I'm singing aloud as I do this, but the void allows for no thoughts other than the task at hand.

"Lord of battle, I pray on bended knee for a conquest by the rising sun. I wait for thy command with flame and blood at hand...glory, and a broken sword. I am the master of the world, I have no fear of man or beast, born inside the soul of the world. Riding hard, breaking bone with steel and stone, eternal might I was born to wield!"

My actions are becoming faster, more brutal, less polished. My ferocity won a large number of fights I might have lost if I'd kept solely to the void.

"Silently we bide our time, soon we'll pay you back for all the wrongs you've done our kind, for the stabwounds in our backs! You think you're save, well, live your lie; there's no way you'll escape the day that all things living die: the day we rise again! When Fenris' father will summon us, and we will rise from death...one million warriors with foaming mouths to challenge life itself!"

I have become a whirlwind, muscles screaming at me that they are too weak to give me what I am demanding from them.

"Raise your swords up high, hear the black bird's cry, show no fear! Attack!"

Defeated enemies line my vision, imaginary though I know they are, and I ram into them with all the power I can muster. Turning around, swinging my arm, I knock away a rock that was aimed for my head. Whoever threw it at me, they can wait.

"Kneel! You all shall kneel to me, or death will set you free! You all shall kneel to me! Fall! You all shall fall to me! Vengeance will be sweet! _You all shall fall to me!_"

I catch the second rock and throw it back the way it came. With a final scream, the flame in my mind explodes with the void it has consumed, leaving my body worn down and my mind empty of all thoughts but victory. I drop to one knee, then, and slam my fist into the grass-coated earth.

Standing, I look to where I threw the second rock. It's buried halfway into a tree, and beside it is a startled (and clearly frightened) girl from the track team.

"You wanted something?" I said, not quite glaring, though my displeasure was evident in my tone.

"I just...I saw you come here when we were leaving, so I stayed to watch what one person would do in an empty field. I got curious to see just how aware you were...how did you know?"

"I felt them coming." A lie, but an honest one. After years of fighting, you develop a sort of sixth sense to incoming attacks. While I would never have been able to predict those rocks coming at me, I could feel that something was coming to hurt me...so I stopped them. I'm actually impressed, I've adapted well to my body's slowed reflexes. Maybe, though, I moved much faster than normal on demand?

I'm not sure.

"What's your name?"

"James. Who are you?"

"Miki!" She smiles, clearly trying to feign that she's no longer afraid of a man who can bury a smooth rock into a tree from ten yards.

It's almost pitiful.

"Next time, Miki, be a little smarter. That rock could've killed you, easily. Before I had to come here, I broke bones for a living and all else came second."

She nodded, the fear shining in her eyes.

"Go."

She bolts, and I go back to the middle of the field before dropping. Staring up at the stars, unable to sleep, I'm struck by something I rarely feel: guilt.

I could have killed her. Easily. Throwing the rock back was a reflex, but it could have caused her death. What if she hadn't been able to dodge?

I'm not used to these questions. I don't want them. My life before was simple: Beat everyone, don't look back. Now, though, I need to be more aware of other people. This is a school for the physically disabled.

The sickening feeling in my stomach lasts well into the night, before I come to accept my actions. After that, I take a walk around the grounds and wait for the morning to come. I consider going back to my room and taking the sleeping pills, to help with my insomnia, but decide against it; the night is young, and it's time for the dead to be remembered.


	3. Prologue: Vulgar Display of Power

**Did someone say three chapters in three days?**

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

My third day in Yamaku is, again, sleepless; I'm not too bothered, though. I've gone for six, almost seven, days without sleep, and three is normally the benchmark for me. Sure, I _could _always take those sleeping pills, but...

No. I need to start taking better care of myself. My carelessness, my drive to keep winning even if it cost me everything, is what landed me here. My mind is still fit, perhaps better than it was before; for the first month or so in the hospital, I couldn't move from my bed, so I read a lot of books during that time. I've always enjoyed the activity, it's just always been secondary to me.

I read almost everything they had. Simplified medical textbooks on bones and organs, math and history texts, and it felt like I'd read the entirety of the fiction section. It didn't matter if they were in English or Japanese; my parents are from America, and I'm fluent in both languages. I read because, even more than my imagination or my music, that was how I could escape the bed-ridden world I was forced to live in.

In any event, I'll take those sleeping pills tonight. Who knows? Maybe I'll change as a person when I get a regular sleep schedule.

* * *

I'm skipping class when I find myself up on the roof.

It just feels like something to do, to look up at clouds and let the time wash over me as they pass by. Sort of like my first day here, when that girl...Rin? Yeah, that was her name...when Rin laid down beside me.

_Speak of the devil_, I think, seeing the armless girl on her back, looking up at the clouds. Wordlessly, I brush away some stray gravel and lay down next to her. The clouds above us are thick, white, and look like bundles of cotton. Farther up, there will be thinner ones, but for the moment they're blocked out by the size of these other ones. Even the sun is hidden, offering greatly appreciated shade on such a hot day.

"Hello." She offers.

"Hey."

"Do you enjoy the view, the one that being on your back gives you?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Just wondering."

A few minutes pass by in comfortable silence, and I find myself actually enjoying Rin's company. Sure, we've only interacted twice, and both of those have been looking at clouds, but her slow speech and placid demeanor are incredibly calming. Other people might look down on her for it, think she's stupid or strange, but I like it. I guess my take on it is that I should give everyone their chance, and Rin deserves that chance as much as anyone else.

"Do you want to be friends?"

She looks at me, a puzzled expression dominating her face, and then it feels like she's searching for words. Finally, she closes her eyes and offers a lopsided smile. "Sure."

I nod. "Okay then."

I faintly hear the lunch bell ring, and a couple minutes later the twin-tailed girl from yesterday is up here as well.

"Hello, Emi."

"Hey, Rin! Wait, who's..." She takes one look at me and gets ready to bolt.

"Me. Yeah. I get the feeling we didn't get introduced very well?"

She calms down, if only slightly.

"My name is James, and you actually saved me yesterday. The Student Council thought it would be fun to press-gang me."

"Oh, them...yeah, I guess I can see why you weren't angry. I was looking for you to try and apologize, say you could come up here to eat lunch with me and Rin! I even made three lunches."

"How thoughtful."

She tosses one to me, sets one down for Rin, and opens up her own. They're very well-prepared, and taste pretty good too; I'm more than ready to forgive someone who can make food this good as an apology.

I realize that that's pretty sad, but I am who I am...and I'd rather be me than someone who isn't me.

Rin's dexterity is amazing to me; after I finish wolfing down my meal, I spend the rest of my time watching her eating. She holds the fork between her toes, scoops up some food, and delivers it to her mouth. Most impressive of all is the speed at which she does it, taking even less time than Emi does. Rin seems to be one of those people who's not only adapted, but thrived, to their disability.

"So how did you two get to know each other?" I ask.

"Someone in the housing department thought we'd go together nicely." Emi answers. "Like socks and shoes, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it." I'd noticed, but hadn't really connected the dots. "Together, you have all of your limbs."

"I have trouble with shirts." Rin says.

"If you didn't," I respond, "I'd be pretty impressed." I really would be, too.

The bell rings, telling us that we need to go back to class. We pack up our things and leave...but, of course, I won't be going. To the library it is, then.

* * *

My meditation goes uninterrupted for a long, long time. Finally, though, Hanako asks me something.

"Hmm? Sorry, I didn't hear you very well."

"I...sorry. You've...been there for a long time."

"It's sweet that you're worried, but I'm okay."

She blushes, raising the book to cover her face, and I hold back a laugh that would probably scare her away.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm the one who's over here sitting on the floor staying completely still for hours on end, it'd only be natural to worry." I think so, anyway. Maybe Hanako just worries a lot about other people.

Either option is plausible.

She gets up, then, and leaves. I don't pay it too much attention, though; she's her own person, she'll do what she needs to do.

I leave after another half-hour, or maybe it was an hour? I'm not sure. Either way, I have an apology to make to Miki. Maybe she deserves it, maybe she doesn't, but I shouldn't leave her viewing me the way that she should after last night.

My tired feet lead me to the track field, and I decide to participate. Why not? I may not be the fastest person, but I don't doubt that I have better endurance than most of them.

They're playing a game of soccer, shirts against skins. "Hey, new kid, over here!"

I'm one of the skins, it seems. So much for keeping my scars a secret, then. Stripping myself to the waist, I can feel their eyes looking over me. "What?"

"If it, uh, makes you uncomfortable-"

"I'll be fine. I can play somewhere in the box."

"Okay then, chief. Whatever you say!" He claps me on the back, and I head back to the goal. Surprisingly, Miki is there in a sports bra to preserve whatever modesty the tomboy might have.

"Do you want goalie or defender?" I ask.

"Defender. You have two arms." And I'd get to use them. She's still a little afraid of me, but I guess most of it has passed.

"I'm sorry about last night." I give the words up before the ball comes at me from upfield, and I catch it before punting it back the way it came.

"Apology accepted!" She smiles. "Maybe, sometime, if you _really _wanna make it up to me-"

"Mhm." I give her a flat look, almost rolling my eyes as I shove a hand out to stop the ball. After it bounces once, I kick it away.

She sticks out her tongue before laughing. "Can you hold it against me for trying?"

"Nah. Not really."

"...I'm gonna head up when the ball comes over. Don't worry about the goal."

"You sure? I mean..."

"Yeah. I'm good enough for it, I think."

True to my word, I signal for someone to switch out with me; from there, I charge down the opposing team. I may not be the greatest soccer player, but with metal bones I'm essentially a tank that can blitz across open terrain. I pass the ball away and open myself up, shooting (and scoring) when I get possession again.

I'm not the greatest, especially since this is a team-oriented sport, but I've always been a physical kind of guy.

"Okay, that's game. It's getting kind of late anyway." One of them says. "Good job, everyone! And...James, was it?"

I nod.

"You're welcome back anytime, and feel free to join whatever team you want; we're open to everyone, but you've got a good sense for sports."

"I was a fighter before I came here." I explain. "Physical stuff is pretty easy for me, and I can learn fast. This was fun."

Miki punches me in the arm, and for a moment I'm reminded of my brother; it's enough for me to tap back lightly.

"Good job, hero."

"To hell with that. I was just tired of staying in one place, that's all."

"Yeah, sure. Not trying to show off to the pretty girl or anything like that."

I raise an eyebrow, but don't disagree; she is good-looking, after all, and I sort of have a thing for tomboys.

"A little self-assured there?"

"I don't hear you denying it."

"I wasn't going to."

"Cute."

"Not me, no."

We've struck up this friendship effortlessly, laughably easily. It's kind of ridiculous, but neither of us is the sort of person it's difficult to be around.

I head off to my room in good spirits, and down the pills that will put me out of my miserable waking state.

* * *

I wake up and feel like I have a new lease on life. I go to class, fresh and alert, ready for just about anything that might come.

Unfortunately, that includes the student council. We're told to break up into groups of three, and Hanako leaves class; I'm the odd man out, so I can choose to work alone or make a group of four.

Shizune, I should have known, would never let me work alone. I was so close, too.

Misha seems to be the only one who's having any trouble; I've read over this subject before, while I was bored and in the hospital's library, so I'm flying through it even faster than Shizune or Lilly, who understand but have a little difficulty.

Not my fault that I took advantage of my situation, is it?

Suddenly, I feel...cold. Like my blood's not warm enough, or that-

Oh. Oh, _shit_. I need to get to the nurse _now_.

I get up and walk to the teacher; she gives me the go-ahead, and after exiting the classroom I'm charging through hallways or leaping down whole flights of stairs. Once I exit the main building, I'm practically flying across the grounds. Every minute is colder than the last, each breath more shallow; I should have known that pushing myself so hard yesterday, and today, would do something like this. I may be unbeatable in a fight, but I'm not invincible in life, no matter what I might pretend.

This running isn't doing too much good for my condition either, but at the moment it's a necessary evil. My limbs feel heavy, my arms falling to my sides and my head dipping, my legs only keeping speed because it will mean my death if I can't keep the pace.

When I finally reach the nurse's office, I knock once. I don't have the energy to do more.

"I wondered when you'd show up." The nurse said.

I can't even spend the energy to think about what an asshole kind of remark that was, I just roll up my sleeve and let him stick the needle in me.

"Not like I...had much choice." I gasp out, my lungs finally realizing that they can calm down now. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't needed. I hate medicine. I hate relying on any strength but my own. Before I would've come here, I'd have rather died than let something else help me live." The brutal, honest, truth.

"What changed your mind?"

"Metal bones, the fact that they could never dose me right on any medication, and having to pretend I was asleep in the middle of every single surgery they ever did to me."

He frowned. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened."

"Don't worry about it. Pain is what makes people strong, and I've suffered a lot."

"There should have been a note that told you the sleeping medication would affect your blood."

"So does my insomnia, though."

"Yes, it does, but there's a difference in time; you'll need to come here every other day...after dinner. Make sure you eat a lot of meat, and other iron-rich foods. Alternatively, there's supplements, but I doubt you're interested in those."

"I'm not. Eating meat hasn't ever been a problem before."

"Good man. Do you want to spend the night here?"

"I should be fine...I'll come back after dinner, though. Thank you."

"You're welcome, kid. Just doing my job."

After dinner, true to my word, I go back to the nurse's office and receive another transfusion. It's an annoying thing, this reliance on things that aren't "me," but I guess I'll need to get used to it. That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it, but it needs to be done in order for me to stay alive and accomplish any of my goals...not that those are really attainable, anymore, but the thought is still there that they might get done.

* * *

**Alright. I've decided that, after this, I'll do Rin/Hanako/Miki...but the questions are:**

**A: in what order?**

**B: in what style? (complete one route before beginning the next, or do one chapter of each route before doing a second chapter for each route?)**

**Any input is welcome!**


	4. Prologue: Metalwrath

**Chapter four is here. Before I start, though:**

** Grimnir: I was actually planning on that order, I just wanted input; I chose Miki because, as you've said, there haven't been any stories about her. Why not make one?**

**I do pride myself on my grammar and spelling; I wasn't very good at it when I first joined, but over time it became the best feature of my writing. Thanks for noticing!**

**As far as the update rate/chapter length goes...2000 words (not including ANs) has generally been my fanfiction standard for a chapter, as opposed to 3000 words for non-fanfiction works. Before my massive hiatus, I was slowly starting to approach a 3000 word chapter for fanfiction, but 2000 is what seems comfortable to me. It's also not too hard to crank out six or seven pages of material in a day when I have an idea in my head.**

**I wasn't sure that anyone would get my song references, but knowing that even just one person did makes them worth the insertion. There will be more, I can promise you that. The title is actually twofold; not only does he listen to metal, but he has metal inside of him...I don't know, I like double-meanings.**

**...let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

It's been almost two months since I first came to Yamaku, and I think I finally feel like I'm fitting in. I've earned my couple of friends here, and more than a few acquaintances whose company I can enjoy. It's a novel feeling, to be honest.

I haven't had friends for most of my life. Those who I might have once called by that name have died, or they abandoned me; I scared everyone with who I was in those days, just a few short months ago. When I wasn't showing up to class with victory scars and blood-covered cuts, I was fighting. In the halls, in the streets, in the ring...it didn't matter. I'd show up, bringing fists to a gunfight, and I'd be the one walking away as the winner. Sure, there'd be a bullet hole in my arm, I might crack or break a bone, but I still one. Knives could cut my hands and arms, but they never got near my chest or gut.

No matter how many times I won, people kept thinking that I might eventually lose. They were fools, all of them; I am the child of the grave, the undefeated warrior; even my last name is pronounced as a contraction of "slay them."

The ways in which it comes and goes are as varied as the number of people who partake in them, but war...war never changes. You can take away the weapons, you can make it religious or political, you can leave it down to one man against one man on a field, but the fact remains that one side will win and one side will lose. The strong side, as a rule, is the one to win...but only when they have the skill, the wisdom, to back up all that strength.

That's how I've always looked at life. It's a war, my war, and it's me versus the world.

* * *

I go through each school day routinely, quietly; I avoid most people, now, and they've learned to avoid me too. It's nice, this mutual understanding between all people that I'm not to be disturbed. When I'm not cutting class to cloud-gaze with Rin, meditating near Hanako in the library, or giving half-assed participation in whatever sport the track club is doing that particular afternoon, I'm practicing my forms and listening to whatever song is playing.

It's not a bad way to live my life, all things considered. Worse things have happened, crueler things have been done to me. I'm actually finding myself enjoying those days when I do nothing physical, a complete one-eighty from before I came to Yamaku; back then, I was always doing something with my hands. If I wasn't fighting or playing some sport, I was working with them. Physical labor was just another way to make myself tired and feel good about doing it.

Inwardly, though, I find myself struggling. I'm torn between three potential roads, and only those three, that I can walk. If I choose one, though, I can't take the others...yet, at the same time, I know that I want to choose one of them. I just can't decide which of them to pick.

Another change from my life before Yamaku: I never thought about romance. No woman was enough, none of them could keep up with my drive, none of them were...without fear of me. Those words are, at this point, painful to recognize. "What if" doesn't do anybody any good, but I occasionally find myself wondering how I might have turned out if I'd been willing to let other people in.

I'm glad I didn't, though. They would've just been more strings to cut from my life upon coming here, which is something I didn't need. I once again think about my family, and the fact that I don't plan to see or hear from any of them ever again. At the time, I was ecstatic. Part of me still is, the part that remembers what life was like with them...but I'm also wondering if things have gone better without me there, or if they've only gotten worse due to my absence. My uncaring father, beating either of my brothers or my sister? The thought fills me with a rage I didn't know I had. My mother, passive, seeming to simply let it happen? It's what she would do, after all, damn the consequences her eldest child might have to face for it.

My heart twists a little as I remember that I essentially abandoned my youngest brother. He's a simple boy, he didn't deserve getting his hero torn away from him like that. He didn't deserve to be left alone in that house, in this world.

It's almost enough to make me consider recanting my unspoken oath, that I'll never go back now that I'm essentially free of them. They're not even paying for this, I am; at this point, I'm completely in control of my own life. All of my possessions are here in this room, with me, and they won't be leaving for good until I do too. All of my money is mine, not my father's or my mother's, and of all the things I might have ever thought to spend money on...education wasn't one of them, I admit, but I'd have done almost anything to be free from that "home."

I go through this particular day without feeling much of anything, even without my constant on-the-go meditation. It's just not a day for feeling, I guess. Even my music can't do too much to brighten up the grey and dreary day, though I try to sing along with it and feel the messages of the songs.

Clearly, I'll need to do something later. I'm not entirely sure what that will be, but it's going to happen.

It's going to happen tonight.

* * *

Over the last few days, I've felt some of my previous strength and speed returning; I'll be much stronger than before, by virtue of lugging around something like two hundred pounds of metal inside of me, but neither my agility nor my reflexes will ever get back to what they once were. No fighter on earth would easily take that trade, but the fact that I have a barrel-plate instead of a rib cage sort of makes up for it; it's also been great for endurance training.

Against the nurse's unspoken orders, I've been pushing myself to my breaking point; old habits die hard, as they say, and who would deny a man of the one thing to give him any pleasure in life?

I skipped taking my sleeping pills tonight, and I move into a "designated destruction zone" that was built for people who needed to take out frustration in a physical way without hurting anyone.

For me, it's just another way to test my power.

I wrap my hands around a tree, lifting up, but it's no use. I try again, but still nothing; it's an exercise in futility, and I knew that before I tried, but what kind of person would I be if I simply accepted all of my assumptions and knowledge as truth?

Instead, I begin hitting it. One strike. Two strikes. My legs start to move as well, the sides of my feet occasionally mixing in with my hands in order to keep battering the tree. Very slowly, the cracks begin to appear in the bark; yet again, I idly realize that I'm singing. Or am I just thinking the words? I can't tell anymore.

"You said it couldn't be done, told me that it's the kind of battle that just couldn't be won, you know?"

_You're too sick, too hard, too fucked in the head. You'll never make it, no, not in this lifetime!_

"Well guess again my friend...don't act surprised, we've got the bass drum kick that will blow out your eyes! HAH!"

_'Cause when you hear this shit, you'll get to steppin', gonna fight the war and use my music as a weapon._

I'm bleeding from both hands now, but I keep punching. Bark begins to fly off in small oddly-shaped fragments, and I pay them no mind. All that matters is the task at hand, and the words flowing through my mind.

"Voices of victory all shout and proclaim: the kingdom of glory is mine! The rays of the will are a prophecy filled, I'm the lord of the day and the night! I've nothing to sell but the power of hell, my armies of fire await! I'm here to be paid, for the pact that was made; my payment can never be late!"

The inner wood of the tree is splintering, biting into my knuckles and crashing against the metal in my fingers. There is no pain, there is no feeling, there is only the known need to continue hitting this tree until it falls down or I faint from exhaustion. That isn't even a thought, it's just an action spoken louder than any words I could ever have shouted. I need to do this. I _need _to do this.

It's rhythmic, almost relaxing, almost lazily done.

I can feel the metal in my little finger start to give way, on my right hand, so I tuck it behind the ring finger and continue. Just a little more, just a little...more...

_Seed of doubt, it exists and it grows, a glimpse of light from somewhere deep within...is there anyone there, can anyone hear me? Oh, I can take no more! Here it comes, the real me...not someone else! Another, stranger, me!_

With a roar, and renewed ferocity, something snaps. I can feel anger within the void, and it can't be contained within the flame; I'm hammering away at the tree, my attacks no longer rhythmical or precise...only powerful. I am not hitting a tree, I am hitting an enemy who will not hit back and who will not fall down. They are not made of wood, but barbed and twisted steel. With a final kick, one with all the power of metal and rage behind it, I break through to the center of the tree.

It groans.

As my vision fades to black, the thought strikes me that I don't know whether the tree will fall towards me or away from me.

* * *

**A little short, but a nice way to start each route, don't you think? Next chapter begins Miki's route.**


	5. Miki, Act One: Awakening

**Chapter five, and the start of Miki's route!**

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

I wake up groggily, though I can hear someone calling my name.

"James!" Whose voice is that? I know them. I have to know them. It's...

My eyes snap open, and the first thing I notice is that the tree fell to the other side. Scientifically, it probably shouldn't have, but I guess my luck is still holding. That's what I get, I guess. Maybe it was the wind, but what wind would be strong enough to move a tree that massive...even if it was already falling? ESPECIALLY if it was already falling?_  
_

"Hey, Miki." The words are out of my mouth before I can think of them. They're also all that I can really think to say

"You _idiot!_" Ah, there it is. The self-righteous anger of the female species, that which passes all understanding of any man and has transcended into mythic status during modern times. "What were you thinking? You could have been hurt, you could have died, you-"

"Save me the speech." I push myself off the ground and wrap her in a hug. Maybe that's a little too much for people who are _just friends_, but I've never been one for social protocols. Neither has Miki. That's a large part of our friendship, actually. "Why are you here, how did you find me, why were you so worried?

"This morning, after you didn't go to him last night, the nurse told me to look for you."

"You, specifically?"

"Yes."

Huh, that's kind of weird. You'd think he'd reach out to the teachers, not a student...but whatever his game is, he's made his move. Now it's my turn.

"Well, as you can see, I'm fine. The tree, though...I don't think it's gonna be getting back up from that one. Sorry, pal."

My joke is so pathetic that we have to laugh at it, and I realize that we've held this hug for a little too long for people who aren't dating. Uncurling my arms, I swing back from her. "Today's Saturday, right? I'll take you out to the city to make up for this. That okay?"

"Make up for what, idiot? We're friends, you had me worried! Isn't that the end of the story?"

"No, that's exactly why I should do something like this. I had you worried, so I'll make up for it."

She's only fighting this halfheartedly. I can see in her eyes that she wants to go, wants to do something that could make us more than what we are, but she wants to make sure I want it too.

"For fuck's sake, Miki, would you stop arguing and just go out with me?"

Well.

That could have been phrased better.

"Oh, well I guess when you put it _that_ way..."

"I meant 'give me an answer.' All this talking in circles doesn't do anything for either of us."

She punches me in the arm, harder than our usual greeting or goodbye, and then once on the other arm.

"Sure, why not?"

"Because...never mind. Get ready, we'll leave after I'm done chewing the nurse out."

"You move fast, lady killer!" She tosses the words at me as I hurry away, but I can hear the grin in her voice while she does it.

* * *

For all my big talk, I'm smart enough to realize I'm the one in trouble as I step into the nurse's office.

"I realize you're concerned, that's your job, you do it well, all that jazz, but in my defense I was punching a tree down in the DDA."

"You did what?" He's more shocked, less angry. That's good. It's always good to keep people in power from being angry at you.

"I punched down a tree in the designated destruction area. The big...oak, I think? Maybe it wasn't oak. I punched it down, though. Bare hands and everything."

I show my blood- and sap-covered hands, with the occasional splinter or cut showing here or there.

"You're an idiot. Fortunately, though, you're not the only reckless child at this school...I'm assuming you know how to clean and bandage those?"

"Yeah. Can I do it here, though? I don't have the supplies in my room."

"Be my guest, kid."

I hold back the _I am_ that wants to come out of my lips, and set myself to work; I wash my hands in water, then rubbing alcohol, then water again. I pull the splinters out neatly, now that nothing's coating my hands, and get the medical tape. I wind it around my fingers and palms with practiced, methodical ease, and idly realize it's my second-favorite color: black.

"Very nice." The nurse says. "I don't know that I'd have done it the exact same way, but..."

In his moments of silence, I interject. "Our approaches have two different purposes. You fix things so that they heal and get good as new. I fix things so that I can keep using them until I need someone like you."

"Aptly put...now, the blood transfusion?"

"Just give me another pack, I don't have the time for a full-blown one. We can do that tomorrow, as usual."

"Alright then. I wasn't sure."

"I probably would, but there's a pretty girl who I promised to take out today, so..."

"Good man." He waves me out, closing the door behind me, and I need to go change into something suitable for a day in town.

* * *

Black jeans, black t-shirt, black hoodie, fingerless gloves to go along with the medical tape. Black boots, as well.

My wardrobe isn't very expansive, as far as colors go. If it's not black or a very dark grey, it's white.

"Ah, yes." She says, mocking me. "The fabled man in black."

"Except I'm not fleeing across a desert, and no gunslinger is following."

"Incredible."

The bus ride is a short one. "So what do you want to do?"

"Well, I didn't eat breakfast or lunch because I was looking for you and getting ready for this..."

"Don't try to twist my arm like that."

She smirks. "Can you blame a girl for trying?"

"Nah. And I can't say no to a pretty face." That one earns me a punch on the arm. "Don't hear you denying it."

"Who would do that?"

"You'd be surprised how many girls don't think they look pretty, no matter what others tell them. It's mind-boggling."

"Mhm. I'll take your word for it. Now, about that food..."

"We're walking, aren't we? We'll pass by some place eventually."

True to my word, we do. It's a sports bar-looking sort of place with the name, "The Lighthouse." Nice and cozy, easy to get a booth and a window seat.

"What can I get you to start?" The waitress, a young woman with frizzy blonde hair and gold eyes, asks.

"Um...Coke?"

"Sure. And you?"

"Water's fine for me." I answer. It's free, too; I may have a lot of money from all of my tournaments, but I've got the soul of a miser. It's an interesting combination, to say the least.

"Any appetizers?"

I nod my head to Miki. I may be paying for everything, but she's the one who's deciding this stuff. "What are...hush puppies?"

Ah, so it's less a sports bar than a restaurant that seems taken straight from the American South. I don't remember a whole lot of the place, though I went there once or twice for a tournament. It's a region unlike any other, especially with their food. "They're good. Bread, I think they're fried, they taste sort of sweet."

"Sure, then, why not?"

The waitress gets up and takes our order back. In a few minutes, she's returned with our drinks and the basket of hush puppies.

It's an odd name for a food, but somehow it feels like it fits.

Miki orders two hamburgers and fries; surprising, even if ordinary. With her figure, I'd have suspected a salad, but she _is _pretty boyish.

I ask for...it doesn't sound remotely American, but the French dip au jus. A fancy roast beef sandwich, essentially, that comes with a side of fries as well.

When it arrives, faster than I might have expected, we dig in. Miki's a little less measured than I am, wolfing her food down as fast as she can manage, but even with the sheer size of my sandwich I still manage to beat her to the finish. I've always been better than almost everyone at putting food away.

"Jeez! Eat much?"

"I didn't have breakfast or lunch either, remember? Actually, I didn't have dinner either. this is the first time I've eaten in more than a day."

"Aw, poor baby." She teases me, sticking out her tongue. "Maybe that'll teach you to listen to people who know better."

"Nah, I'll be dead long before I choose to take good advice." She wants to punch me, but holds back.

She's gonna get me for that later, though.

I hand the waitress my card, to a sarcastically mumbled, "High roller," from Miki.

As she hands the card back, I put a few bills on the table; I can't see what they are, but I just pulled them out.

Maybe I shouldn't have given an absurdly huge tip like that, but why not make someone's day? It's not like I was really going to use that money. Give it to someone who still has their own dreams to fulfill, I thought.

I don't feel like I'll be regretting it.

* * *

"Anything else you want to do? Shopping, walking around, anything?"

"Either you really feel sorry, or you're letting me take advantage of you. I'm not sure which of those ideas I like more...follow me!"

I was going to do that anyway.

Miki drags me from store to store, and nobody asks her anything about the missing hand. Their stares may linger, but one look from me is generally enough to dissuade anyone from doing _anything_ for much longer. I'm good with making people stop.

She tries on several different dresses, skirts, tops, and the like. If I'm honest, none of them really seem to suit her. Not that they don't look good, or that she doesn't look great in them, but they just don't feel like her.

Maybe I'm thinking too hard about it. Nothing says that a girl can or can't be girly, after all, and just because I've only ever seen her in a t-shirt and shorts doesn't really mean anything beyond that's what she's comfortable with as far as the school's dress code goes.

We leave after an hour or so, and it's getting late now; there's only one bus back to Yamaku, and even though we aren't in a hurry to catch it, it does come soon.

Still, there's enough time to get ice cream before we head back to the buildings that make up our home.

"Never would've picked you for a strawberry-flavor kind of girl."

"Never would've thought you'd take me out as an apology for something that didn't need one."

"I felt like I needed to apologize, so I did. The best way I knew how."

"As opposed to saying, 'I'm sorry?'"

"I'm not good with words. I'm good with actions."

"That's bullshit, I've seen the way you write."

"Okay, fine, I'm _better_ with actions than words. Happy?"

"Yeah. Today was nice."

"Alright. So what does this make us?"

"Us."

Her reply is simple, resolute, and I pull an arm around her shoulders as we walk.

It's time to head into the future that's waiting for me, no looking back at what could have been, no retreating. I've made my choice, and now I'll need to see it through to the end...no matter what comes.


	6. Miki, Act One: Winter's Plans

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

Winter break, the end of the school year, is approaching. I've enjoyed my time since my first date with Miki immensely; I feel like an entirely different person from who I was before, and it's a great feeling.

Well, almost entirely. I wouldn't be "me" without more than my fair share of anger and violence.

"So what do you want to do?" Miki asks me; at the moment, we're sitting up on the roof with Rin. It's not like we ever invited her to join us, but there's not really a need for her to be gone...and besides, she's a friend of mine. What kind of person would I be if I pushed a friend away?

"I don't know. What do you want to do, Rin?"

"Find out why I've never seen you smile."

Well, that was said with all the delicacy of a rhino. Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever really smiled for anyone except Miki...and even then, those have been few and far between.

"I'm, uh, not a very smile-oriented person."

"Yes, but why?"

"Lot of anger. Lot of violence. Metal bones." I try to convey through my tone that I don't really want to deal with this conversation, but Rin is (of course) oblivious to things like that...and I won't be like all the other people who've rejected her, who make her feel small and bad and hurt. I may not be the best person, but I'm her friend, so I'll suffer through this.

"Interesting. I was just...curious. That's all. Please don't be mad." Maybe she did notice the edge in my voice. Suddenly, I feel bad. Were it not for the fact that I can hide my emotions so easily,

"I'm not." It's the honest truth.

"Okay."

"I...I've never smiled much. Even as a kid. I was always fighting, always training, always getting stronger. The only reason I existed was to beat other people into the ground, to make them feel pain and suffering. That's what I thought made people strong: their ability to stand pain. I put aside all of my emotions except for anger and hate, because I couldn't get rid of them. The only times I smiled, I was fighting, and that smile meant you were going to come very close to death in the immediate future. I'm pretty sure I killed at least one of those people, to be honest. That kind of thing happens. Basically, I don't smile because my smile means someone's going to get hurt very, very soon."

Rin looks taken aback, not expecting such a serious answer to her question, and Miki...there it is again, that flash of fear that pops up every so often when I talk about my past. Even though it makes me sad, I know it's justified; who wouldn't be afraid, knowing that the person they're dating is probably a killer with so much anger inside of them that it's amazing they don't snap at everything?

The look in Miki's eyes...that's the reason I've wanted to change so much. Before, that look would have been taken as the realization that I was in the right, that I was good at doing what I did, that I should continue down my path of bloodshed. In the days before I came to Yamaku, her fear would have been seen as weakness before I picked her up and crushed her with my power. Now, it makes me sick to my stomach to admit what I would have once done. I'm not certain I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her yet, but at the very least she has become a dear friend and a much-needed balance from the destruction in my life.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, and I ignore all other activities in order to meditate in my room.

* * *

_Born in a time of darkness and evil, under the sign no god. Glory's my mother, fire's my brother, sword my only love. Into the land of chaos and hate, that is the place for me...and for the conquest, for bloodshed and honor, I will use my steel! Raging flame, burn again, for eternity! Burn my heart to win! Eternal war is awaiting another fiery king! Rage in my heart, crossing the forest, riding my black horse; across the valley, along the river, where the hot blood flows. Over the lakes, and over the hills, I follow the call of the wind. I am legend, and for my princess I will fight and win! Void of flame, burn again, for eternity! Burn my heart to win! Unending war is awaiting another fiery king! Lord of the Thunder, please be my guide, before and after my last ride...I am a soldier in my own right, fighting forever, alive and proud._

The words are changed in my mind...some of them, anyway, to make it less about some sort of religion and more about the power that a person needs to be victorious in the world we live in. It's an old habit of mine, actually, but that's what I get for not trying to change everything about myself. Some part of me, on some deep-seated level, really does seem to think that I'll eventually be able to go back to doing what I did before.

I finish one set of movements and continue on to the next.

_Far, far beyond the island, we dwelled in shades of twilight...through dread and weary days, through grief and endless pain! It lies unknown, this land of mine: a hidden gate to save us from the shadow fall. Lord of Water spoke, in the silence, word of wisdom. I've seen the end of all! Be aware, the storm gets closer! Mirror, mirror, on the wall, true hope lies beyond the coast; you're a damned kind, can't you see that the winds will change? Mirror, mirror, on the wall, true hope lies beyond the coast...you're a damned kind, can't you see that tomorrow bears insanity?_

I'm speeding up again, like I did that night in the field, but this time my body isn't protesting. It's welcoming the new challenge, allowing my full strength to fill it entirely, and only then do I start to feel the ache of tiredness. Soon, I'm a near-stationary blur of movement; my muscles are starting to strain, my mind is draining from the weariness caused by the movements, and my eyes are lighting up like fireworks on a festival night. I realize I'm laughing, but it's not the booming sort of laugh, the good kind, that I've become used to in the months since I first arrived here.

No, this is a bad laugh. A cruel laugh. This is a laugh that I didn't want to hear again, whether from myself or anyone else; the sound promises pain, a broken body and a broken mind.

I stop myself, ramming my head into the corner of my desk; that's all I have the consciousness for.

* * *

"Shit, my head." One hand pushes me up from the floor as the other one clutches the side of my head.

"I'll say."

There Miki is, sitting on my bed, one eyebrow raised. What is it with that girl and finding me unconscious?

"Why are you in my room?"

"Door was unlocked, so I let myself in." My door is always unlocked. I don't expect other people to come, so there's no real need to lock it.

Come to think of it, I'm not even sure my door has a lock.

"Yes, but _why_?"

"I felt like it?"

My flat, disbelieving stare is enough to convince her that she needs to give up the act. "Why." It's less of a question, now, and more of a demand.

"...do you have any plans for winter break?"

"No."

"Okay. See, I was talking with my mom, and if you want to stay with us..." It's not like her, this shyness.

"Yeah, sure. Not much else to do, other than stay here."

"No family to go back to?"

I've never told her about my family? I find that hard to believe, but...I must not have. We haven't really done much in the way of actual romance, it's really just been friendship with kissing and hand-holding and a date every so often. I don't know a whole lot about her personal life, and she only knows the vaguest sort of explanations about my past.

"I hate my family. There's only one of them that I felt even a little bad about leaving behind." That's a little harsher than I intended, but it's true nonetheless.

"Why?"

"I just...do. It's not like anything could be done about it, even if I wanted to, which I don't. I'm not planning on seeing them ever again." It's one of the few points I've been adamant about, to myself, but at the same time...part of me, most of me, wants to go back one final time. I may not care about my parents or my sister, but neither of my brothers deserves the kind of a goodbye they got from me to be their final time ever seeing me.

It's a moot point, though. I'd only take the opportunity if it presented itself, I wouldn't make it happen sheerly so that it could happen.

"Going back to your question, though, I'd be fine with it."

"Okay!" I can tell, somehow, that we're not done with this topic...but it's gone for now, though, so I'm fine now.

"Hey, do you want to go to town?"

"Why?"

"No real reason. We haven't had a date in a while, and I don't have anything to do today since it's a Sunday."

"I'd enjoy it."

* * *

Half an hour later, we're running around a park. There's no real point, it's just something to do together that can pass the time. Miki's faster than me, by virtue of the metal under my skin, but I'm the better endurance runner for that same reason.

"So...you mentioned your mom, but not your dad, earlier."

"Divorce. Pretty ugly one, too, in all honesty."

Well, that explains it pretty easily. "Sorry if you didn't want to talk about it."

No, it's all good. I've never really liked my dad, he's a bit too...strict."

"Didn't like the attitude?"

She smirks. "Not one bit. I wonder what he'd say about us?"

Putting on my best 'gruff father' impersonation, I give her, "Young lady, just what do you think you're doing with that hoodlum? Get away from him! Come here!"

She collapses to the ground, and even though I know the ploy by now it's hard to resist feeling panic. As I bend over her, I can hear her laughing. "It wasn't that funny." I tell her.

"You sounded just like him, though!" She leans up and kisses me, and then I pull her up to her feet.

"Do you want to go eat something?"

"Sure. Have you been to the Shanghai before?"

I haven't, and say as much. Her face brightens up, and she starts pulling at me even though she knows I wouldn't move an inch unless I wanted to.

Fortunately for her, I want to.

It's a nice place, almost sort of hidden away; the waitress is Yamaku's librarian, Yuuko, though I'd guess that the book-keeping job is more suited to her. She gets depressed easy, from all I can tell, and books can't hurt you in all the ways that people can...I'd know.

After we have our meal, a couple slices of cake and some tea, (I've never been one for coffee,) we head back up.

It was a nice day, all things considered, and I enjoyed it to the fullest I probably could've done.

Winter break is looming, as well as all the exams and vacation preparations that come with it. I intend to do what I always do when exams come around: skip all the review sessions and pray to the lottery gods for a miracle.

Well, actually, I'm really good at exams. They're probably the one part of school at which I'm anything beyond "competent."

After that, though, will be a lot of time just for me and Miki. Part of me dreads that, is afraid of so much one-to-one time with another person, but as a whole I'm looking forward to it.

Bring it on.


	7. Miki, Act One: Price of Glory

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

There is no emotion within the void, for the flame consumes it all.

Miki's mother lives in my city. Miki lived in my city.

"You didn't tell me you lived in my hometown."

"I...I'm not sure I wanted you to know, after what you said about your family. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, I'm just surprised. It's a big city, I can avoid them if I want to."

I don't want to, though. Not anymore. One last visit should be all I need, one final closing chapter in the book of my life with blood-related family. A final, true, goodbye.

I've brought all that I need to bring, just a few changes of clothing; they're all black, of course, because what color suits me better? Certainly not one with an actual color, to be sure. Only the absence, the void, truly means something.

As the bus rolls along, and I stare out the window, I see faces I know. Faces of people I protected, or beat up, or that I'm simply familiar with. Moriya, the man who owns a pizza parlor downtown, going into a convenience store. Issa, a guy I had to beat some sense into when he harassed a girl, leaning against the side of an alley smoking a cigarette.

Well, like it or not, the king has come into his castle. I wonder if my old buddy Mondo is still running the streets around here after dark? He should be, he's damn near unstoppable in a fight. I think I'm the only person who's ever won against him, actually, and even then I didn't really want to fight him...whatever's going on, I can't feel that the city's changed too much.

That thought is enough to rile me up.

* * *

"Ah! You must be James."

"Yeah, that's me." What is it with mothers and pointing out the obvious? It's like they think we never grow up, or something along those lines...that's my first reaction, though. Maybe she's just trying to connect the dots, and doing so out loud is the only way she can reliably accomplish that?

"Your room is down that hall." She smiles. "Don't keep me up too much!"

"MOM!" Miki shrieks, scandalized, as her mother winks at me. I let out a short, wry laugh, and then Miki rounds on me as well. "Fine, you two!"

"And here I was, thinking she'd be insensitive to that kind of thing." I tend to make a lot of false assumptions regarding people, especially about Miki. It's a bad habit of mine. "Given the way she acts, it doesn't seem like that'd bother her."

"She may act a lot like a boy, but she's still a girl."

"I noticed."

The comment draws a raised eyebrow, and we laugh again. Miki's mother is much easier to get along with than I'd have thought, given my experience with my own mother...but there I go again, with my preconceived notions. I really need to try stopping that habit.

"I won't really ask for much, you know. This is her first relationship, so I don't expect you to stay together for the rest of your lives or anything like that, but...take care of her. Even though she acts strong, she can falter quickly. You've probably seen the difficulty she has with her missing hand?"

I nod. She's gotten better about it, over time, but every so often she'll try to do something with fingers and a palm that don't exist anymore. Usually, it's something that needs two hands to do. She'll get frustrated easily, and then angry, sometimes even to the point of crying. It's not an encouraging sight to see, but I'm always there to help her whenever she needs it.

The conversation dwindles, but then a realization sparks. "I don't know if Miki told you about my condition, but I'll need to go to the hospital-"

"Every Sunday, some time between noon and three, for a blood transfusion."

"Alright. I don't actually need you to take me, but I just wanted to make sure you would know where I was in that sort of situation."

"Thank you, James."

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, with a large dinner that we devour after dark. The next several days are the same, uneventful sort that happen when you're on vacation and have nothing you need to do. I try to find it enjoyable, but I need out. I need the darkness.

* * *

It's a Monday night, warm and breezy, when I leave the house. Miki and her mother are both asleep, and it's high time for me to do something in blood.

You can take the need for a fighter out of the ring, but you can't take the need for the ring out of a fighter.

I walk a few blocks, dialing a number I haven't heard from in a long, long time. "Eh? Who is this?"

"You know who it is, you bastard. I'm on the corner of Cherry and First. Knowing you..."

"Slae'im, ya son of a bitch! How ya been?"

"Bored as a snail trying to climb a mountain. Anything going down?"

"Ya called it. Bloodhounds trying to move in on our space...ya want in?"

"Would I be talking if I didn't? Tell me where it's at, I'll get there."

"Nah, man, we're headed your way anyway. Ya need anythin'? Knife, brass knuckles, whatever ya want...we'll prob'ly have it here, waitin' for ya."

"Since when have I needed anything but my hands?"

"I hear ya, brother. We'll bring an extra bike for ya."

A minute or so after we hang up, A herd of motorcycles pulls up ahead of me. Their leader, orange hair shaped into a pompadour, is in his ceremonial white trench coat and pants; as a rule, Mondo generally wears the black set, but when you go to beat the crap out of someone...and Mondo's always been proud. The white sets him apart from everyone else, even more than his height.

Fortunately, I'm wearing a similar outfit in black. This way, we look just different enough to be similar; we are, in more ways than one, and maybe this other group that Mondo's gang is going to fight will realize that. The back of his coat reads, "Crazy Diamonds," the name of his gang, embroidered in gold. Mine, though, has, "Violence, Bloodshed, Victory" emblazoned in a rich red. His has a pair of diamonds sewn into the pattern, but I have two hands raised in the corna, of metalhead tradition.

He's one of the few friends of mine to still be alive, who wasn't afraid of me even in the beginning. We've fought a lot in the past, but those fights have only made our friendship stronger.

I get on a modified bike, a low rider with huge pipes on the sides and long handlebars that make the motorcycle feel more like a drag racer than a bike.

"I'm ready. I'll ride diamond."

One behind Mondo, who's at the head of the V-formation, between the second and third people on either side, I call it _diamond _because that's the shape it makes. If I were riding between the last people, I'd call it _triangle_, and anywhere else would be _arrowhead_. I like naming things.

"LET'S RIDE!" Mondo revs his engine, and we shoot out as one entity; we're a living, breathing spear of flesh and metal. This is what their lives are like on a daily basis. This is what it means to be a bosozoku.

When we arrive and dismount, there's somewhere between forty and fifty of them waiting. Including me, we have eight.

"We're giving them, what, six to one? Seems a little unfair to them, if you ask me."

"Almost makes ya wanna pity the poor fucks, ain't it? Kinda sad."

"You and I could probably take them by ourselves. Give them a chance."

"Yeah, but these are some a the newest guys I got with me. Can't exactly lead em if they ain't ever fought."

"Fair enough. You ready?"

He nods, and the trash talking begins between Mondo and the leader of the Bloodhounds. I don't pay attention to it, opening myself up to the flame and the void and the music starts to come into my ears. Some words change, to fit the scene, but the song remains the same throughout in its message of pain and death.

_Listen as this blood-stained fist is slowly fastened to a choke around your frail esophagus, staring at the black of my clothing and your doom; the fetid taste of fear as you gulp and swallow pride? I am but a part of a well-oiled machine that splutters death, suffocating people with my unique brand of violence and bloodshed. All around the globe my name is feared by all your kind who will succumb to extinction, the crowd remains in fear of me, faceless behind their terror, runs. Their screams can be heard from atop my throne of skulls from whence I rule by blood! Can you hear them scream? They scream out that no amount of kindness or wealth can save you from this. Your corpse will be strung up with the rest of all the weak-_

The song ends not by choice, but because the fight begins. With a wild cry, I leap and plow both feet into one opponent's gut, landing to stand on him. My hands clench and windmill, hammering into another set of enemies. I'll leave Mondo to his glory of leader against leader, and content myself with annihilating all the rest. Once again, an anthem rises; it's one I've heard before, my favorite lines from the song, and I scream them out.

"KNEEL! YOU ALL SHALL KNEEL TO ME, OR DEATH WILL SET YOU FREE! YOU ALL SHALL KNEEL TO ME!"

I feel a jaw break under the pressure of my punch, and I can't see anything but the fire of the flames inside the void.

"FALL! YOU ALL SHALL FALL TO ME! VENGEANCE WILL BE SWEET! YOU ALL SHALL FALL TO ME!"

I backhand someone into a wall, and hear a sharp crack, but there's no time to turn around. The flame doesn't allow for any thoughts outside of destruction.

I am invincible, unstoppable, inexorable. I remember now what I've missed so dearly, and why I always believed that fighting was my purpose: I was born for it. I was born to do this. My creation was intended in such a way that I could destroy any and all things.

I ram my head forward, and feel it connect with bone, before punching the opponent in the gut and twisting his neck until he slides unconscious.

_I've fought my share in every land, I cannot count the men I've killed. So many friends died with bloodied hands, but the warrior's death was never granted me!_

I hear no more movement, and the flame leaves me. So does the void.

Mondo and the rest of the Crazy Diamonds are looking at me with something between reverence and joy. There is no fear in their eyes.

Maybe I chose the wrong path, then, but I can't go back now. It's a shame that this is, perhaps, the only time in my new life where such a display of anger and violence will go appreciated by the people around me.

"I never understood before." Mondo says. All trace of his rough accent is gone, and it's like he's having some sort of religious epiphany. Hell, maybe he is. "I didn't really get why they called you 'the King.' Sure, you'd beat three or four guys at once, but I could do that too, so I couldn't get why I wasn't just as scary as you, but...I get it now. Holy shit, man, I'm glad you're on my side."

I give my smile, the one for pain. "Everyone's glad I'm on their side, brother." Not the first time I've called him that, but it feels a little too formal given the situation. "Those who aren't with me...they don't stay conscious for long enough to regret it."

"Hey, Slae'im...keep the bike. It's been lookin' for a good owner for a while now, and I can't think a someone I'd rather give it to."

"Will do, brother...will do."

* * *

The fight is on the news that morning and afternoon.

"You did this." Miki isn't asking me.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I was asleep in my room the entire night."

Her mother gets up and leaves the kitchen, though I don't doubt that she'll be listening from the other room. Miki and I have a propensity to shout when we get mad, even though we've never been mad at each other.

"You're lying to me!"

"A friend of mine needed help!"

"So you go out and _beat up fifty people_? I can't believe this!"

"He was going to fight. He needed help." My voice is getting dangerous, and Miki knows that, but she presses on anyway.

So much for a fun vacation.

"What could possess you to...oh my...what is WRONG with you?"

"I FOUGHT!" My shout would carry through the house even if I controlled it, so I let the full volume take effect in this small room. "I BROKE THEIR BONES. I MADE THEM BLEED. I ENJOYED IT! I HAVEN'T BEEN IN A FIGHT FOR SO LONG IT WAS PAINFUL, MIKI! IT FELT LIKE I WAS DYING INSIDE! SO WHEN MONDO SAID THAT HE WAS GOING TO GET IN A FIGHT, I WENT AND FOUGHT WITH HIM! I FOUGHT FOR HIM! I DID MY JOB AS A FRIEND, AND I FULFILLED MY DUTY AS A FIGHTER!"

Miki stands still for several seconds, shocked and fearful and paralyzed by the fact that I'm yelling at her. I probably shouldn't, but I don't care right now. I'm angry.

She shouldn't be the one telling me what to do or not do, she shouldn't be condemning my actions, she shouldn't...she shouldn't...

Before I can start yelling again, spewing my mindless rage at her, she runs.

A wave of guilt passes over me, but I crush it with all the anger that's inside of me right now. How dare she? I'm my own person, I'm free to make whatever decisions I choose.

Everything's internalized, eventually, and I realize I should probably follow her to her room and apologize. I should. That's what a responsible, caring boyfriend would do. That's what I should do.

That's why I go outside, get on the motorcycle that Mondo gave me this morning, and drive.


	8. Miki, Act One: Ad Victoriam

**Grimnir: The "I'm gonna kick ass" section was _meant _to come out of nowhere, as strange as that may sound. Sure, we've seen that he's an angry person, (who the hell punches down a tree?) and we've seen him practicing, but we never got to see him cut loose. I didn't do an entirely great job describing it, since fight scenes are actually one of my weaker areas of writing, but what better way to demonstrate his ability than a need to fight after so long without doing so?**

**I didn't want to use it as a flashback, though the thought was there, because that's not really the KS style; I'm trying to stick to that as much as I can.**

**Without going into too much detail, since I have a chapter to write, Slae'im has a lot of battles under his belt. He's been training since he could walk, and fighting since the age of five. He averaged about 100 fights a year, and never lost any; his pursuit of power was blinding, always driving him to greater heights until his final victory. He's changed in the months since then, but no fighter (who can still fight) is ever content to rest upon their laurels. There's always another opponent, always someone who's left to be beaten. Learning more styles means having more opportunities to win and prove his power.**

**Maybe the song references (and changes to those songs) are over the top. I'll be honest, for a couple chapters I was abusing lyrics and lyric changes to reach above my "minimum word count" so that I wouldn't just be posting a short chapter. I might do it again at some point, but for now you're safe.**

**Thanks for the compliment, and I might take you up on that offer if I'm ever over in that direction.**

**Cannibal Corpse is a great band, man.**

**...with that taken care of, l****et's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

It wasn't the smart thing to do, the right thing to do, or even remotely close to either of them. By all rights I should have apologized to Miki, explained why I did it, and tell her that I'd try not to let it happen again...but I have to stay true to who I am.

I have to be "me," because there's nobody else who can fill that role. Furthermore, I don't really want to change. The number of differences that have appeared since I arrived at Yamaku are startling, and at times they seem flat-out frightening.

That's why I left. I'm not sure where I went, and I'll need to go back eventually, but for now...for now, I'm taking this motorcycle for all that it's got. The wind is shooting past me, here on the open road, and for these precious few hours I can be free from everything except the asphalt that lies ahead.

I think I understand Mondo a little bit better now, too. This sort of running away from your problems, the kind that doesn't harm your body the way that narcotics or alcohol can do, is relaxing. It's fun. Hell, it'd probably turn into an addiction.

"Way out on the highway..." I mumble, unable to hear myself, "...heavy metal thunder."

There's nobody here, nobody coming either way, and so I decide to push the motorcycle farther that I have been; at this point, it feels like the pedal is about to fall off. For all I know, it might be close.

"I was born free, born to be wild, the wildest wild child. I was born a dead man, and a fighter I became, death and glory are one and the same. I will leave this world as I was born: bloody, screaming, and from the void torn. I was born to rule, and I'll be king, the champion fighter of the ring."

It's no song, I'm just making poetry up to distract myself.

Part of me wants to just drive off the side of the bridge coming up, screaming for death at four hundred miles per hour, so that I won't actually have to deal with the consequences of what happened earlier this morning. I want to cry out, to be utterly destroyed in a spectacular explosion of metal and flesh, so that the world can pass me by and remember me only as the man who could not be beaten.

The fact that I pass over the bridge in two seconds just proves that I'm a coward.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I drop my speed until it's at the upper limit of what's legal. After moving like I was, this feels like a snail's pace.

It's time to begin the journey back.

* * *

Three in the morning. That's the time I get back.

Three in the goddamned morning.

The bike's quiet, now, as I pull into the driveway. This is her house, right? I should say I'm sorry. I should...yeah. Sorry.

Like that would ever make a difference after what I pulled. Hopefully she'll forgive me.

I open the door, and something's wrong. This isn't Miki's house. This doesn't smell like Miki's house.

Fuck. Oh, _fuck_. Of all the places to subconsciously come back to...why here?

I'm silent, closing the door and creeping downstairs. No sound, no sign for anyone paying attention that something should be wrong.

Nothing except the fact that my younger (middle) brother is wide awake, playing some video game or another.

They turn around, and the non-sound that happens next is more alarming than if they'd yelled.

"Hey, James."

"Hey."

"You here for a while? Mom and dad don't come down here anymore, so it's just us."

"I can't. There's stuff I need to do."

"What, like what happened yesterday?"

Well, he got me on that one. "No. It's sort of related, but it's different."

"Whatever you gotta do, man, then do it. That's what you taught me."

"Yeah."

"You want to stay for a few minutes, though? We haven't seen you in a long time, and the way I figured it..."

He really is smarter than I've ever given him credit for. He knows I didn't really intend to come back, that he probably shouldn't be talking to me right now, that this is likely to be the last time I see him until he leaves this house.

"Yeah, sure. I can do that." I sit down, pick up a controller, and start playing the game with him. Unsurprisingly, I start winning.

Still, it's nice to be able to do something like this again. I'm enjoying it.

"How's school?"

"A drag." He answers. "I'm like you, I coast by on tests. It's too easy."

I refrain from telling him that that's not a good idea for his future, since I ended up needing to go to a school for the disabled. Not a whole lot of good can come from hypocrisy, either.

He wins a match, but I win two or three for every time he can beat me. He's gotten better since we last played.

"Anything exciting happen?"

"When word got out that you were gone, a couple kids thought they could pick on me. I got suspended for breaking one guy's jaw and another's arm."

"That's my brother." I smirk. "Anything else?"

"Em's moved out, started some pre-university, pre-high school program. A boarding school kinda deal, you know?"

I know. I'm at a boarding school, so something would definitely be wrong if I didn't.

"So it's just the two of you...what goes on here?"

"Mom works twelve hours a day, dad does about the same, and they manage it so that they're never home when the other is. It's just me and Jake, most of the time."

That's no way for them to live.

"How is he?"

"He misses you. I won't tell him you were here. He keeps saying that he hopes you'll be proud of him when you come back. He's started picking fights in school, and he wins, but...it's not the same, you know?"

"Yeah."

I set the controller down. It's around nine, at this point, and I can tell that the only reason he's still awake is because I'm here.

"Get some sleep, man."

"Not yet."

I look to him, a little confused.

"I'm not dumb, I know that you're not coming back. I just...there's a lot I want to say, and not a lot of time to say it, so I'll sum it up as best I can."

I nod.

"You've been a great big brother. You're a good man. Everything I know, I learned from you or because of you. You proved all of the things you ever told me with your actions, and I am who I am because you've always been there for me. I...I'll miss you."

I can see, and feel, just how hard those last three words were for him.

We clasp hands and pull at one another, until his head is over my shoulder and vice versa.

"This is not the end. This is a goodbye, yes, but it's not the end." I tell him. "If you ever need anything, go to the Crazy Diamonds and tell them that I sent you. Mondo will do what he can."

We separate, and I raise my fist in preparation to punch. So does he. Our fists smash together, and both of us know that we won't be seeing each other again for a long, long time. If I don't leave soon, though, then I won't be able to leave at all...so I bow my head in respect and start walking away. "Before I go, though...for what it's worth, you were a great little brother. Give 'em hell, kid."

With that, I'm up the stairs and out the door and gone into the mid-morning buzz of the city.

* * *

I celebrate my "return" with a variety of people, in several different places. Moriya's pizza shop, the mall, a couple arcades and other restaurants around the city. It's a good day to be me, a good day to be alive. I know I'm just delaying the inevitable, keeping myself from returning to Miki's house, but for now I'm okay with that.

Every so often, I'll spot a picture of myself hanging up on a restaurant's wall. Moriya has a couple, there's a cafe downtown with one, and a couple others are just sort of "there" in the city. Each place that has one, I was a regular visitor or a good friend to someone related.

Each photo is from a victory, and each pose is different. In one, I'm just a little kid raising his fist in celebration. In another, it's the corna. A third shows a full-body profile shot with an outstretched, bloody fist and a serious expression on my face, my other fist pulled close to my gut.

In a way, they make me sick. I didn't ask for publicity, I just enjoyed fighting.

It's a big city for the region, but still a small town when compared to places like Tokyo. Even if I don't like it a whole lot, I don't think it'd be right of me to strip away their version of a claim to fame.

* * *

Finally, after a long day and a half of running, I'm back. It's Miki's mother, thankfully, who opens the door.

"Don't tell me, tell her." She says when I open my mouth. "And remember what I told you about her acting strong."

I nod. If there's a time to be serious, this is it, regardless of whatever else I might be feeling.

I walk up the hall to her room as quietly as I can, and I manage fairly well given that I don't know which floorboards are creaky yet.

I close the door behind me so that, if nothing else, her mother won't hear the storm that might happen.

"I'm sorry."

She looks at me angrily, and for a second I'm taken aback at the vehemence in her eyes. "Are you really?"

"Yes and no."

There's confusion and sadness, now, with the anger.

"I was doing something that I thought was right. I didn't...I wouldn't have known it would make you that upset." My words come slowly, but just connected enough that it's clear the silences between sentences aren't meant to be too long. "I hadn't fought in so long, I felt like I needed to, and the opportunity presented itself and I just-"

I stop myself, realizing that I'm speaking a little too quickly now. If I rush the words, they won't make any sense.

"Mondo's been a friend of mine since before he and his brother founded the Crazy Diamonds." Daiya was run over by an eighteen-wheeler a couple years back. I helped Mondo carry his casket at the funeral. "I never joined, but when I called him and he said he was getting ready to fight...I was in. That's what my friendship with him is, it's an all-or-nothing kind of deal. I'd shove him out of the way of a bullet, I'd catch a grenade for him."

I'd trust him with my brother's life. I'd trust him with _Miki's_ life.

"But he's a..."

"Hoodlum? Gangster? Good-for-nothing drain on society? The world could learn a lot from him, Miki. He's rough, he's tougher than leather, but he's a man of honor and he keeps his word. He does what he can for his friends. He fights a lot, but it's to protect what he sees as his. He's loud, he doesn't really know how to deal with girls, but he's a good guy."

It's not like I'm expecting her to have a total change of heart, but I want her to understand. I want her to know why I did what I did; that's how I'm apologizing.

"What I want to know, though...on the way here, when I asked you about being from here, you didn't seem surprised to know I was from here. Did we know each other?"

"I knew you. You...scared me. You only cared about who you were going to beat up next, what prize you'd win. You just wanted to cause as much pain and suffering as you could."

She's not correctly interpreting my actions from back then, but I don't know that anyone would unless I explained it to them.

"And now?"

"You still scare me sometimes. That first night was terrifying, and seeing what you did on the news..."

"You were the one throwing rocks at me."

She ignores my words. "After seeing that, it was like you hadn't changed at all. Like nothing we'd done meant anything, and you'd gone back to fighting at the first opportunity."

In a way, that was true. I'd been the one to call Mondo.

"You do mean something to me, though. What we've done, us, together...I don't know exactly what it can be called, but I care about you. Beyond anything else, I want you to be happy. If I need to leave now, and not talk to you again, not even when we get back to Yamaku, I will."

The final offer. She looks like she's tempted, but I can tell that she's not seriously considering it. Now that she understands why I did what I did, she isn't angry...or isn't _as _angry...that I did it.

"Do as you will." She finally says.

I cup her face in my hands and kiss her.


	9. Miki, Act Two: The Return

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

The rest of the winter passes slowly, uneventfully, in the way that only school vacations can do. All too soon, though, it's time for the return to Yamaku.

With a heartfelt goodbye, we leave the house that's become a sort of home away from home; Miki takes a bus and a train, while I ride the whole way on my motorcycle. The open road has become a sort of escape for me, a way to do the thinking I need to do without letting anyone else in on what's bothering me. On the road, all that matters is your ability to drive...so long as you can do that, just about everything else is fair game.

I think about myself, and all the ways that I've changed since my last day as "the old me." I think about Miki, and what she means to me, and what the future might hold for us. I think about my sister, and her future as whatever it might be that she chooses to become. I think about my brothers, the way that they didn't deserve my sudden leaving and that I should've done more for them. I think about life, the past and present and future. My thoughts have no boundaries, because the flame and the void are endless in their expanse.

Mondo really did me a favor when he gave me this bike. Sure, it's probably not the greatest creation of the do-it-yourself chop shop that the Crazy Diamonds run among themselves, but it works plenty well enough for me. I'm gonna need to thank him whenever I'm in town next.

Deep down, I know I'm probably not going to go back. Not any time soon, anyway...at least, I hope so.

"Ah, yes. The sweet smell of schooling." I say, mockingly. No amount of time can change the fact that I have never cared about, or liked, school. It's not the education I have a problem with, so much as the way that it's done. I've always been a fast learner, done all my learning on my own, and other people needing help from the teacher has only ever seemed to slow me down.

Maybe that's not fair to those who need the help; if they need to understand something, then they should certainly reach the point where they understand...I just wish it didn't penalize my educational growth.

Not that you'd ever see me doing my homework or projects, though. Like my brother said, I coast by on whatever tests come my way. I always understand the material, so extra work to review and reinforce the lesson is pointless for me.

Even when I skip classes, I always make sure I know what I'll be missing.

Now, though, it's time for senior year. My last year before I'm done and gone and out of the damn system for good.

Familiar faces run past me, people I recognize. There's Lilly and Hanako, who've become even more insular after the big fallout Lilly had with Shizune. Emi and Rin are together, too. Shizune and Misha are probably inside already, keeping to themselves.

I've made no secret of my dislike for the Student Council, especially after they tried to gang up on me when I first arrived. Lilly has redeemed herself, as I've since learned that she held none of Shizune's intentions, but the blue-haired girl knows by now that I'm to be left alone.

It's better that way.

Our class this year is 3-1. While we're stuck with Shizune and Misha again, much to our shared displeasure, Hanako is there as well. While I wouldn't exactly say that we're friends, our by-chance meetings in the library last year allowed her to get over some of her shyness towards me. I smile, looking over to her, and she raises her left hand as a sort of greeting.

Whatever happened to her to give her that much scarring, that much insecurity, I'm sorry for it, but at the same time...she wouldn't be "her" without it, all the positives and negatives thrown in.

Maybe I'm getting better with this thing about relating to people. Maybe not. I've never really liked people, as a rule, so on a lot of levels I don't really care.

After introductions with all our classes are done, Miki and I go over to the athletic department. Everyone else that I've gotten to know, even in passing, is there.

I resist signing up; my efforts with physical fitness are my own, and they've worked well enough for me. At this point, I might even be able to do all the movements and forms at full speed.

After quick greetings and polite conversation about how our breaks went, everyone who wants to play a game is divided up into shirts and skins. Miki and I are, for once, on opposite sides.

"Not gonna go easy on you." I nudge her, and she punches me.

"I've never been easy on you. Why stop now?"

Rather than stay back in goal, like I did when my muscles were weaker and my reflexes were sluggish, I take one of the striker positions as they kick the ball to us.

Score once, retreat to the back. Score three times, and suddenly half of the other team is on you when you try to get the ball.

Then I score a fourth time, and they just sort of give up on guarding you.

The game ends in a tie at seven, and as we all congratulate each other Miki sticks her tongue out at me. "Showoff."

"Don't lie, you enjoyed the show."

"Mhm."

Sometimes Miki's boyish manner of speech is off-putting, but most of the time we communicate more easily than if she never directly told me things and I was left trying to guess at them.

"I always enjoyed the show. It just scared me sometimes."

"Too manly for your feeble female imagination." I say in the deepest voice I can make, and she laughs. "The bara is strong within this one, with his massive chest and powerful biceps. He could probably crush a car between his fingers, if they made cars that small."

I have to hold her by the waist so that she doesn't collapse on the green, and feel her pressing against my side as she wraps an arm around my shoulders. I look over, idly, and see the rock that's still stuck in the side of the tree.

Impressive, if I do say so myself.

"So how long did that go on for?"

"What?"

"Your crush on me."

Laughter can't save her from dodging this question, though she tries. It's loud, girlish, and that's how I know it's fake.

"Fourth grade."

I beat up a few fifth-graders who were picking on a girl. "That was you." I'm surprised I can remember the event so clearly, the way they turned on me and expected an easy target...only to find out that they couldn't escape when I pushed them down and punched them until they cried. By the time I'd looked back to see if the girl was okay, she was gone. "I always wondered who that was."

"It happened in seventh grade too."

It hadn't just been a grade up from her, that time, but girls and high-school kids too. There had been no mercy, and none of them escaped my judgement.

Others can say what they will, and maybe it's hypocritical, but I despise those who pick on the weak or ostracize the people who are considered "different." For all I know, people like that are the reason this school exists.

I hate bullies.

Sure, I'd beat people up, but I never intentionally picked out someone weaker than me. Even in registered bouts, we were supposed to be around the same level of power; when I was looking for a fight, I always went for the person who was considered strongest.

"It's all good now, though. I'm here." I tighten my grip to reinforce my presence, and she squeezes my shoulder.

What are we, then? Miki and I?

I'm tempted to think that we're a couple of insane fools. Maybe that'd be the correct answer. Fools for interacting, for knowing each other, for growing closer...but too much good has come out of it to be entirely foolish.

In the six or seven months that I've really known her, I think I've become a better person. She's become a lot more solid, both in schoolwork and in her physicality. None of her confidence is faked anymore, and I don't think she's ever been less afraid of me. Even if we're not the best of romantic pairs, we still fit, and we're good for each other. That's got to be a good thing, right?

* * *

"One who is raised by the sword..." I growl the words out, completing one set of motions. "...must then die by the sword."

The tree I punched down last year has been turned into a bunch of wooden posts for me to hit as I will. One good blow could snap them easily, but there wouldn't be a whole lot of fun in that. Instead, I land several softer blows.

"One who is born from the fire must then die inside the fire. Those who come from the sea will return to it. He who is born of earth, to the earth shall go. The children of the wind shall become one with it once again."

There is nothing within the flame and the void, nothing except the knowledge of what I am doing and what must be done.

"Duty is heavier than a mountain." I intone as I stop, tired. Looking up, I see the moon rising into the sky. "Death, lighter than a feather."

* * *

The next several days pass uneventfully, almost seeming to crawl. Words go in and out of my head, but the understanding of the concepts remains.

Hanako seems to be opening up more to other people, myself and Miki in particular. One day, she invites us to join her, and Lilly, for lunch.

"You brought guests, Hanako?"

"...Yes."

"Hello, Lilly." We say the words simultaneously, and Miki punches me.

"James? Miki?"

Miki almost nods, but then thinks better of it. "Yeah."

"I'm glad you could come join us."

It's a quiet place, and it almost seems like the world could be forgotten inside its walls.

Lunch is a passable affair, tea and small sandwiches that Hanako made. It's enjoyable.

The bell rings, too soon for anyone's liking, and we all head back to class. Lilly is in 3-3, a class devoted specifically to the visually-impaired students. Why do the seniors, and not the juniors or freshmen, get such a thing?

Maybe so they're not just cloistered, off by themselves, as a sort of afterthought? That way, they can make connections to other students who don't share their disability.

I'm not totally sure, but it's not really my place to ask. Still, it would feel wrong to leave them as a sort of afterthought while the rest of us move on with our lives, so my idea at least makes sense on that level.

* * *

I may not enjoy school, but I like the people I've met here. Were it not for them, I'd probably have just gone back to fighting and died after my first week was up; the great irony is that I've never been a people person, never really good with my words when I'm speaking. I need to write in order to truly unleash my feelings, but I'd rather do that with my fists and my teeth.

It's time to move forward, to cast off what I once was, to enter into what amounts to a new life...but I have to stay true to "me."

As I recite words inside of my head, I realize that I think I'll be able manage.


	10. Miki, Act Two: Silent Gods Stand Guard

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

I'm playing with Miki's hair as we sit on the roof, eating lunch with Emi and Rin. It's relaxing, and she's told me before that she enjoys it, so I have no inclination to stop...even if it does look sort of weird to do it in public.

Not that I've ever given a damn about social protocol, particularly when it comes to violence.

"You didn't sign up!" Emi huffs, looking at me.

"Team sports aren't really my thing, Emi." I say the words in a tone that allows for no argument, but Emi has never been one to follow rules like that. She'll keep asking until I say, "Yes," or she's blue in the face.

Knowing me, as only I can, I guarantee that she'll stop trying to wheedle it out of me _long_ before I consider joining any sort of sports team.

Miki smiles, knowing where this is heading. She tried to convince me over the break, tried to sell me on the idea, but I just couldn't get into it. Maybe I should give Emi a reason to stop trying to get me to join? I like that idea, as I think about it, so I guess if she really presses me then I can open up about my past.

"You'd be great, though! You're built like a tank, I've heard about your endurance!"

"Take that out of context for me."

Emi blushes, and Miki laughs, but the twin-tailed girl continues. "Even if it wasn't track, there's still soccer and basketball and all kinds of sports!"

"I'm a fighter."

"But-"

"Before I came here, Emi, do you know what I did?"

She shakes her head in the negative. Here we go.

"I used to beat people up for fun. For a living. I'd skip school to help friends out in their gang wars because they needed help and I liked to fight. Most of them eventually wound up dead, one way or another, but there's always another fight waiting. Over break, I got in a fight with fifty people at once. I won. People...other people drag me down. When I'm alone, when I'm fighting, I don't have to worry about controlling myself. When it's just me, just the enemy, I can cut loose and set the beast free. It's not a pretty sight to anyone who's watching, but it's a beautiful thing to behold from behind these eyes."

She's stunned, silent, as I continue.

"Everything I've ever accomplished, I've done it on my own, with my own power, nobody helping me. I didn't, don't, need the help. People on teams walk the trail of armies, their leaders take the road of kings. I'm different. I travel down the path of the conqueror."

I'm talking mostly of my past self, but it's impossible to keep the present tense from bleeding through into my speech.

"I've lived and breathed by the blood that's coated my hands, Emi. Where there's other people, there's not really friendship for me. There's just more potential targets, more possible fights for me to win and prove my strength. So when you talk about teams...I just see mobs of people, waiting for conflict, getting ready for me to put them down like the animals we all are."

I close my eyes.

"I've said too much...sorry. You did start the conversation, though. Come to think of it, did you invite us up here specifically to ask that question?"

I push myself off the ground with the hand that's not twisting in Miki's hair, though that hand's taken out, and give a shallow grin. I'm not waiting for an answer, and she knows that, so I start to walk away.

"I didn't join because I chose not to join. It should have been that simple. I try to make things that way."

* * *

"Emi's not showing it now, but she was pretty shaken up after you left." Miki's eyes bore into mine.

"If she wasn't, I can't really say I did a good job of intimidating her, right?" I stare back with equal placidity.

"Were you trying to?" An accusing tone, a little dangerous to take with me, but I disregard it. She's just worried that I might have hurt her friend.

"Half-assed it, but sort of." I shrug. Why should I care what Emi thinks of me? We've barely interacted, only six or seven times in all the months we've known each other. In all honesty, I can't bring myself to give a damn about the girl without any legs.

"Well, you did a good job of it, then."

"Thank you." My smirk is met with cold eyes, so I retract it.

"That wasn't a compliment." She nearly growls at me, but she's smart enough to avoid that after seeing what happened the last time we argued. Her anger only feeds into mine, and then it's just a contest to see who explodes first.

"I know." I close my eyes for a few seconds and then re-open them. "I won't apologize, if that's what you were going to ask. I don't think that what I said deserves an apology."

"I wasn't going to ask you to. She's my friend, though, so I wanted to make sure you knew you crossed a line."

"She's the one who opened the door. I just stepped through...and there was no line."

"There was definitely a line. Maybe you didn't break it outright, but you certainly pushed a toe past it."

For my part, I can't actually believe that we're talking about this. It feels ridiculous, like something out of a weird dream. Not that, as an insomniac, I'd know a whole lot about dreaming. Hallucinations, yes, but not really dreams.

Either way, something about this conversation feels off to me.

"...this isn't about Emi, is it?" My tone makes certain that she knows my words aren't a question. "I mean, it is, but it's like you're trying to dance around whatever you think is the real issue."

The thought hits me like the kick that shattered my ribs last June. "It's about what I said when I was talking to her. It's about how I feel about other people."

About how other people just bring me down.

She's assuming I meant her, that she serves no purpose in my life except as a draining and lessening influence.

She's guessing that I only keep her around on a whim.

She thinks I was talking generically, not specific to fights or sports or other things like that.

She probably thinks I don't actually like her, or that I see her as someone "weak" enough to not be a threat.

"I wasn't talking about life. I was just talking about sports."

"Is that why you didn't tell me where you were going, when you went out that day? Is that why you took your bike instead of coming with me? You didn't just want to be alone, since I just weigh you down?" _There's _the anger in her. I knew it'd show itself eventually. It's not really anger, though, just...bitterness. Like she thinks, and has accepted, that she comes second to violence in my life.

"...that's not why."

She breaks eye contact, looking down, almost ashamed by my denial.

"You were asleep when I left to go do that, and the bike...this way, if there's an emergency, we have a way to get out quicker...we have a way to get out, period. We don't need to wait on the bus, we don't need to walk, I can just take us down the hill or into the city or whatever. Besides, would you rather I leave it at your mom's house? My parents' house, knowing how I feel about them?"

I wrap my hands around her.

"I know who I am, Miki. I like to fight. I'm good at fighting. There's a lot of anger and hate in me, especially toward people...but there's a lot of love in me too, and it's yours if you're gonna take it. When we started dating, I wasn't sure about it, but I decided to at least try to be a better person...just for you, if nobody else. You made it different, though, especially after I slipped and went back to who I was before."

She smells like an apple's flesh, like someone cut the fruit open and rubbed it all over her skin. Her hair is more like...cherries.

Her arm goes around my back, gripping the space between my metal collarbone and bony neck vertebrae. She wants to cry, but keeps trying to force the tears back.

"After that, I made my choice. I decided that you had to be the most important person in my life, the most important thing out of anything in my life, if you were going to be in my life at all."

With that having been said, she can't stop the drops from falling anymore. She cries into my shoulder as the night comes on, and passes out in my arms after a while.

Curfew is in effect, so instead of carrying her back to her room, (which would be easy enough to do,) I put my back against the wall and pull the blanket over both of us. Even without taking one or two of those sleeping pills, I'm feeling more physically drained than I have in a long time. It takes no time at all for my eyelids to get heavy, for my thoughts to disappear, and the only thing I sense as I drift off to sleep is the warm girl who's pressing into me as her sleep continues. Before I finally go, I pull her to me and tighten my grip; even if the gesture is lost on her, since she's sleeping, I will always be there for her.

* * *

Neither of us is a particularly early riser. Especially, it seems, when we're in the same bed.

She's still asleep in my arms, though at this point her pained and crying expression has turned into the cute, peaceful look I occasionally saw over the break. It's almost four in the afternoon; I'm glad there weren't any classes today, regardless of whether or not I'd have skipped them, because it would've been hard to explain why we weren't in any of them.

_"Oh, uh, we overslept. Together." _I imagine it'd go like that, or maybe it'd be something even more ridiculous._ "I don't know about her/him, but I enjoyed last night a lot." _Oh, the terror we could pull with a sentence like that. Part of me thinks it's hilarious.

Part of me realizes how ridiculous it is.

"Good morning, you asshole."

I guess she wasn't as asleep as I'd thought. It's not morning, though I am an ass, and I don't bother to correct her on that.

"Damn. Just when I was starting to appreciate the sleeping beauty, too."

"I'm gonna punch you for that...later..."

For now, though, it seems like she's content to snuggle into my chest and use my shoulder for a pillow. I certainly won't complain, but she's got a strange way of going about her anger.

I still can't believe that she has the balls to punch someone who used to fight for fun. Someone that she was...afraid of.

That last thought stings more than it should. I enjoyed people being afraid of me. To some extent, like Emi a couple days ago, I still enjoy making people afraid of me. Old habits die hard.

I die harder, if my "bones" are any indication.

Miki doesn't wake up again, after a couple hours, so I eventually join her in sleeping the day away.

It wasn't a very productive day, we've done nothing but talk and sleep, but it feels like today was necessary. Today wasn't wasted, I tell myself. It just had a different use.

My dreams of death and glory are replaced by a purple-haired girl missing her left hand.


	11. Miki, Act Two: Army of Immortals

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

It's a warm, windy day. The perfect kind of day to go work outside. The perfect day to just do nothing, lay about in the grass and enjoy the sunshine.

The perfect sort of day to skip Saturday's morning-only school lessons with my girlfriend and go into the city.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Something."

We end up wandering around the city for a couple hours, eat lunch, and continue. Not a bad time, all in all.

"Hey...isn't that Lilly?"

"Yeah, it is. You wanna go over to her?" I ask.

"Sure, why not? She can't be alone, can she?"

I certainly hope not. That would be...weird, at the very least, and terrifying at the worst. Lilly's blind, there's no way she doesn't have a guide. Right?

"Hey, Lilly!" I call as we approach her. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Okay. We saw you alone, and..."

"Ah, is Miki with you?"

"Yeah." Miki answers.

"It's nice, the way you two are always together. You did well, finding each other."

We smile, though Lilly can't see it.

"Who's with you?"

"Hanako, and my sister."

Ah, the infamous Akira. I've overheard some stories from Hanako, and even a couple from last year when Lilly and Shizune were still on good terms.

"...they both had to go?"

"Akira went to get ice cream. Hanako went to the bathroom. I guess there was a long line..."

"We can keep you company, it's not like we had much of anything else to do." Miki offers, and I agree inside my head.

"I would like that."

Eventually, the two return. Akira is carrying three cones, and she gives one each to Hanako and Lilly. "Friends of yours?"

"Yes." All three of us say at once, and Miki punches me.

"Always good to know my baby sis is making more friends."

Akira, it seems, isn't much for the formality that Lilly aspires to. We'll get along just fine.

"She has a knack for it when she's not in the wrong company."

"Shizune?"

"Tricked her into trying to press me into the Student Council. Eventually tried to directly go against me and make me join the Student Council. Not a nice woman. Perhaps the wrongest of the wrong company that can be found at Yamaku."

"Harsh. You know they're cousins, right?"

"You know Shizune probably doesn't give a damn, right?"

Akira smirks.

Yes, we're going to get along very well.

"What were you two doing out here, anyway?" Akira asks.

"We were on a date, but this is fine too." Miki says.

"Are you sure?" Lilly asks. "I'd hate for our activities to get in the way of your date."

"Yeah, it's all good. There's plenty of chances to do stuff by ourselves, but we haven't done a whole lot with you two, you know? It's nice to go on dates, but tomorrow's a free day, and I enjoy spending time with friends." I offer.

Miki nods, smiling in agreement. "Besides, there's only so much of this big lug that I can take before he gets to be too much on me, you know?"

I give a backhanded swat at her, and she moves so that I barely brush her hair; that's good, her reflexes have improved.

"Nice try, tiger."

I make a purring sound, and even Hanako laughs.

"I'll get you back for that at some point." Probably not.

"No you won't." Damn. She knows me too well.

We spend the rest of the day tagging along with the trio, visiting various shops before eating dinner at the Lighthouse. I offer to pay, and so does Lilly, but Akira ends up taking the bill for all five of us.

I decide then that Akira is my friend, regardless of the fact that we've only known each other for a few hours.

Anyone who willingly pays for my food is a friend. No exceptions.

I'm a little easy to win over once you know how to do it. It's kind of sad, actually.

* * *

_Give us a chance to live, give us a chance to die Give us a chance to be free, without fire from the sky. Give us a chance to love, give us a chance to hate, give us a chance before you kill us all!_

I'm ending my forms when the idea strikes me, something so ridiculous and crazy that it might actually be conceivable. To be honest, I'm not sure how I didn't think of something like this sooner, being the person who I am in the place that I am.

Create a martial art for the physically handicapped. People missing one or both arms, a leg, or a leg and an arm.

How on earth could this idea not have come earlier?

It's a daunting idea, to be sure. I'm likely one of the best-suited candidates for the task, but it would mean creating four distinct and separate styles...or maybe just learning how to apply specific styles to those who have some manner of physical difficulty?

Either option seems plausible, and it's not like I'd be creating an entirely new fighting method from scratch. Even when Bruce Lee created Jeet Kune Do, he only drew from other styles rather than come up with an entirely new one.

Not that he didn't piss everybody off by doing it, but he did it. He did it well.

Maybe I can follow in his footsteps.

I bring it up later, when Miki and I are walking around the small forest within Yamaku's walls.

"Are you serious?" She's not angry, not mocking, there's no disbelief in her voice. It's an honest question.

"If there were any interest for it, then yes. I was going to ask around, but I figured I should go to you first."

"...I'll see."

I expected as much. Given the things I've done, I can understand why she'd be anti-fighting.

Something tells me that I shouldn't get my hopes up, that there probably aren't too many people who'd be willing to learn, but I need to try. At the very least, it'll give me something productive to do when I'm skipping class.

* * *

Incredibly, there's about twenty or so students who'd be interested in learning. While it's not like that's a particularly large number, the idea would be for a style specifically suited to those who've lost a limb or two. Deaf, mute, blind, and those students with other disabilities unrelated to their limbs, don't qualify. With that in mind, twenty is a good number. It's more than I was expecting.

"Alright. I'm not going to lie, I don't really have an idea of where I'm going with this. All I know is that I'm good at martial arts, and I figure that there's gotta be some way to share my knowledge without cracking all your skulls...for now. To help me demonstrate what you might be able to do, eventually, I've brought a guest."

Haji has all his limbs; he's in Yamaku for his single, weak, lung. I don't really know the details, but if he's a black belt in Karate then he'll serve my purposes well. We tie my left hand behind my back, and I explain that I'm using my weak hand.

"Just because I'm right-handed doesn't mean it's stronger. I do almost everything with my left hand except write and hold a knife."

Haji comes at me, then. I use my hand to pull him forward, and my foot finds a place in his gut. Not strictly legal by any definition of proper martial arts, but sometimes you've gotta take what you can get.

"What's inside of you, man, a sack of bricks?"

"Titanium."

"Oh, great. I'm gonna love what's next, huh..."

I don't bother answering him as my right hand joins my left, tied behind my back. Haji starts toward me again, reaching to grab a hold on my shoulder and take advantage of the fact I won't be able to grapple, but I launch one of my feet high and send him flying sideways after it connects with his shoulder.

"Careful, man!"

"That was careful. I held back a lot."

Haji rolls his eyes before my right hand is untied and my right foot gets tied in a way that the knee points straight down. Having an arm and a leg on opposite sides allows for better balance.

I hop to Haji's side, grab onto his collarbone, and hop up before sweeper-kicking at the backs of his knees. He's kneeling as I land, at which point I prepare my fist for a knockout blow.

"Those were just examples. Not every encounter will be that straightforward, not all opponents will have as much of a difference between their strengths as the two of us. It's really just kind of a toss-up, and you won't know until you're actually in the ring against them. Thank you for coming to this meeting...I'll start working on forms and styles as soon as I can."

Miki's there, in the back, trying to stay hidden behind a column. Once our eyes meet, though, and she knows that she can't anymore. After everyone else leaves, she comes up to me, and I voice the thought that's been rattling in my head since I told her a few days ago.

"I thought you said you weren't interested."

"I gave you a 'maybe.'"

"'Maybe' is usually taken as 'no.'"

She punches me.

"I told you I'd see, and I saw. It's a sweet idea. Girly, even."

"Teaching people how to fight is girly?" I raise an eyebrow. "Put me in a skirt and call me Jane."

"No, not that. Reaching out to help people in need, even if they don't realize they need help, even if they don't understand you're helping them. You can try to lie about it, twist it to fit your mind's purposes, but that's what you're doing. It's kind of a girly thing to do."

"You have some weird notions about gender." I say, taking to the flame and the void in order to keep my emotions in check.

I haven't actually needed to do that in a while, almost a week. It feels good to be empty again.

"You have some crazy thoughts about people." She retorts.

Damn. She got me.

"You're a girl who acts like a boy, how am I not going to treat you like a guy?"

"So you like guys?" She jabs.

"No, I like _you_."

She smiles. Our word game ends itself with a kiss, cut off before it could go any further. Miki's sarcasm, her blunt actions, and all the rest of "her" is what appeals to me. I enjoy playing these games as much as she does, these arguments made in fun. I suppose it's our version of, "the other person in the relationship is the better person," since both of us know that Miki is better by far.

I have a noble soul, but it's coated by my heart of stone and kept inside a suit of metal bones. Miki's just an ass.

"I really like you."

"I really like you too." She says.

"I hadn't noticed. Not like we're dating or anything."

She punches me.

As I head off to bed, the thought strikes me that this is going to take a lot of work. What if they're only missing the hand, like Miki, instead of their whole arm? What if they have no fingers, but still the hand?

I'll take it as a challenge. It's just another fight, and there's no fight I've ever lost. I'll beat this problem the same way I beat everything: blood, sweat, and muscle.


	12. Miki, Act Two: Rise

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

It's the middle of March, and I'm still coming up with ideas for the various martial styles I've proposed. I can visualize them in my head, but something always seems off...like when you visualize the impossible in a daydream, except I know that what I'm trying to achieve can be done. It's irritating, and I don't know what the problem is with whatever I could call this thought process I'm going through.

Very few categories of people would know the human musculature better than an athlete or a fighter, with the notable exception of doctors, and I _know _that it's a thing which is possible. Otherwise, I wouldn't be trying.

In addition to the visualization, I'm having trouble coming up with stances and intermediary steps that are inherent in all other martial arts. I can take you through the full motion, but the individual freeze-frames that make up the movement are difficult for me. I'm not good with doing things in parts, I do things in totality. I don't think about the parts a machine needs in order to run, I just let the machine run and watch it go.

I'm much better with action than thought, and this thinking about acting is proving to be just as difficult as anything else I've tried to put from thoughts into words. Sometimes, I really do hate the limitations I've had since long before I earned my metal bones. All I can really do is throw thinking to the wind and trust whatever luck might come my way.

Ironically, that very moment is where realization hits me. Maybe the problem is that I'm only thinking of one style?

The way I've thought about it, martial arts are based on the five elements. The power of fire, the speed of lightning, the malleability of water, the flexibility of the wind, and the solidity of the earth. I prefer fire- and lightning-based arts, because I'm someone who fought to cause damage rather than outlast my opponents, but each element has their place.

Someone with both legs would benefit from an earth-based art, with strong ground-rooted stances and powerful kicks, something that would mean they wouldn't need to worry about being swept off of their feet. People with one arm would need wind- or water-based styles that focused on evasion and redirection rather than pure power. A person who only had one leg would need a combination of water and fire. Someone missing one arm and one leg would require fire and wind.

Well, that's one roadblock down. A few more to go, but one down.

* * *

"Hello, my name is Hisao. I hope we can be friends."

A transfer student...and just like me, he has all of his limbs. Something on the inside, then. Lungs or heart, I bet.

"There's a seat between James and Misha that you can take. If you have any questions, just ask someone." Muto informs him, pointing, and he sits down to my left.

How like Muto to say, "someone," instead of naming himself as the person to come to.

I hold out a hand for him to shake, and he does. "James Slae'im. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Once class is over, I take Hisao off and give Miki a look that says we'll meet up later. "Okay, so there's basically two things you need to know. First, stay away from Misha and Shizune or they'll try to force you into the Student Council. Second, you're not actually stuck here because there's a bus into the city and another that goes down into the town at the bottom of the hill. It's not that bad a gig, to be honest. Oh, and another thing, wa-"

Without warning, Emi turns around the corner and slams straight into the new guy's chest, just like she did to me seven or eight months ago. He doesn't have a metal chest plate, though, and gets bowled over before I can catch either of them.

"-tch out for people who run in the halls." I finish the words slowly, almost painfully, helping the two of them back up. Hisao is holding his chest, and I'm fairly certain now that he's got a weak heart.

"Good job, Emi. That's two for two transfer students you've slammed into on their first day here. Anyone else you plan to hit like a truck?" My admonishment isn't really condemning, and she knows it, but she has the grace to at least look worried.

"Aw...don't be mean, James. I was in a hurry, and..." She finally sees Hisao, and how he's struggling for breath. "Oh, gosh, are you hurt? I'm so sorry!"

After another minute or so, he recovers. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm fine now."

I resist the urge to clap him on the back. "Anyway, is there some specific thing you'd like to learn about?"

As we walk, I tell him about the school and its buildings, the different ways to navigate it, and all the other stuff you'd expect from an orientation. I think.

We get lunch, and Miki joins us. "Educate the new kid yet?"

"You make it sound like a job. Oh, by the way, Hisao, this is my girlfriend."

"I'm Miki." She smiles, then looks to me. "You want me to stick around, or head out?"

"Either's fine with me." I say. "Hisao?"

"I think I got it all, thanks. You guys seem nice enough."

Miki smiles again, and then shifts her eyes around suspiciously. "Just don't let him catch you at night when there's a full moon," she says conspiratorially, knowing I can hear her, "or else he might eat you!" She finishes with a wink.

"That joke was so lame, we had it enrolled." I say, and it looks like Hisao almost sprayed me with his food.

"That was awful!" He says through his laughter, as are Miki and the others around us who heard my line.

I'm not much of a comedian, but that one just kind of set itself up for me.

"I'm a bad person, and it's not like anyone cares a whole lot around here...for the most part, anyway. You can tell all the blind kids that you see their point, and who the hell's to say that they don't see it with you? Speak to the deaf, see if they can lip-read. Just avoid tripping the kids without legs, and you should be pretty good as far as screw-ups go. Before I leave, though...you sure there's nothing else I can tell you about?"

"Um...oh, right! Where's the library?"

"From here...go 'til this hall dead-ends, take a left, go straight, and you'll end up staring it in the face. Nothing else?"

"That's all. Thanks."

Well, he seems like a nice guy. Probably feels like this isn't where he belongs, but he'll see. Like I told him, it's really not that bad of a situation, and the adjusting comes pretty easily.

It did to me, anyway.

* * *

That night, I'm back in the designated destruction area for the first time in a while. This time, though, I'm not really intending to break anything.

I run through my forms, but keep one hand behind my back at all times. When it comes to kicking, I put both hands behind my back. Each set of movements I go through, I take the time to do them how someone missing one or more of their limbs (or even just sections of their limbs) would do them, rather than someone like me.

It feels different, but not bad. Not strange.

This only reinforces my mission, the thought that I will be able to do what I've set out to do. I start to figure out which arts, and which parts of others, would benefit others the most.

Jeet Kune Do would do a lot of good for people missing one leg, and potentially one arm as well, since it focuses mostly on punching, putting as much power behind each of your blows as you can.

Muay Thai and Savate would be excellent for people without arms, since those are based on leg strength and kicks...

Somehow I end up picturing Rin in a fighter's robe, and I lose all train of thought because of the image. For the rest of the night, I have to hold to the flame and the void to keep from risking a laughing fit over the idea of Rin's expressionless face and flat stare put into a martial artist's clothing.

Words come unbidden, eventually, while I'm lost in the mindless task of going through my forms the normal way.

_Hear me now, feel my hate! There is no more time for apologies, malevolent emotions take hold of me! Are you ready to begin your trip to the other side? __Death is an old friend of mine!_

I can feel it in me, the...thing...that came out the night I broke the tree in this place. The stump there is a permanent reminder of what I did, jagged and accusatory.

_Blessed visionary, cut me with your sun! The rivers ran in blood, spark fueled to fire...the screaming arrows tear through my soul. In the dawn your face is haunted, white ghostly dreams of hope! I can see the pain, it's written all over your face!_

I lift my head, my nose flaring, and I give a backhanded slap to one of the wooden posts; it snaps off with virtually no resistance, and goes flying, but I can't see it. All that exists, for me, is the image of mountains. Mountains of corpses. Defeated enemies who couldn't stand against my power...and still I fight on, slaying more in my mind as the beast within me starts to awaken.

_By the sword in my hand, I will conquer the land; I will decimate, and decapitate, those who question the sword in my hand._

_Blood and death are waiting, like the raven in the sky! I was born to die!_

I am death, in my mind, on wings of blood-stained glory. The reaper's scythe is my hands, his grin is my own, and there are none who can win against the expiration of their lives.

_What I've felt, what I've known...never shined doing what I've shown. Never free, never be, so I dub thee: unforgiven._

Earth flies as I spin, and another mountain begins to form itself in my imagination...until, finally, there are no more enemies for me to kill. Then I retreat to my throne, made of skulls taken from all those who I felled, and await the coming of more.

_Peace sells, but who's buying?_

_Run for the hills, run for your lives._

_Cry out to be saved from your fate._

The monster in me finally rears its ugly head, beginning to wreak havoc on this peaceful space, and I black out.

* * *

When I wake up, all that I can honestly understand from the torn earth and cracked trees around me is that I was on a mission to destroy anything that I could get my hands on. Not exactly what I'd call a good prospect, especially considering that the last time this happened I could have died.

I move to my room slowly, taking time to get reacquainted with muscles that shouldn't feel this unfamiliar, this detached. I don't understand what's going on.

My world spins, and I collapse. When I get up again, I feel better.

"What was that?" I wonder aloud.

I'm alright now, though, so I put it out of my mind. Come what may, I'll do the same thing I've always done: fight.


	13. Miki, Act Three: Old Friend

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

It's the day of the festival. I wake up early, surprisingly, and rush over to Miki's room. There's no way she'll be conscious yet, I tell myself, and as I open her door (unlocked, as usual,) I find that I'm right. Closing the door, I seal us off and make sure nothing seems misplaced. I initially came over to wake her up, but she looks so peaceful in her sleep that I feel like I shouldn't.

Now, how to make this fun?

I've never been one for practical jokes, but her bed looks big enough for me to hide under without shuffling or struggling. I resist the urge to draw on her face with a permanent marker, and slide under her bed instead.

When she wakes up, only a couple minutes later, I resist the urge to clamp a hand down on her ankle. She takes a couple steps and turns around; I hear her yawn and imagine her stretching her arms up over her head, which I know she's doing. She turns back around, then, facing away from me, and I move without sound until I'm standing right behind her. Do I reach out and touch her, or just let her turn around?

She wheels around, as if forgetting something, and I move a hand into her mouth before she can shriek or shout. It's a weird feeling.

"Yuck. What the hell?"

"You were about to scream, so I did the only thing that I could think of to stop you. I didn't have the reach to stop you without extending my whole hand, so..."

"Whatever. Now that that's out of the way, though," she leans in, and up, kissing me. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Today's the-"

"Oh, fuck, the festival!" Now Miki does shriek, and I could swear I heard someone laughing from across the hall. She grabs a towel, running out to the showers, probably hoping that they're not filled with her hallmates.

The unspoken, "stay here," remains hanging in the air. I shut the door, though, so nobody can see me.

Despite all the months we've been together, I've never actually been inside of Miki's dorm room. We've only ever been in mine, or out on the fields, or...other places. Never actually her room. I only know it's hers because she told me the number, and I'm glad I remembered.

Fifteen minutes later, she comes back with wet hair and a towel around her body. I can _feel_ her smirking as I turn around to give her some modicum of privacy.

Well, if she wanted me to watch, she'd say something. Still, I can't help that I look back over my shoulder once or twice. I justify it with the thought that anyone else would do the same in my position, and also that we're at the level where it's permissable. For fuck's sake, we've _slept together_. Compared to that, what's this?

She dresses quickly, and before long she says, "You can turn around now."

"What makes you think I didn't before?"

"If you didn't, you're gay. I'm pretty sure that's not the case."

"Yeah, screw you too."

She grins. "What about the festival?"

Damn it all, why is she so good with these quips?

Doesn't matter. "I'm ready whenever you are." I say.

"Well then, let's go."

Miki's wearing a sundress that matches her hair, and it's the first time I've seen her when she's not wearing shorts or a skirt. While it's not exactly her style, she does look good in it, and I smile. "You look nice."

"Says the man in his best suit."

I'm wearing my black outfit, with black tape on my hands, the uniform I fought my last tournament in. Though I feel like I've cast aside the violence of the person I once was, it's always good to look back and remember the good times.

"I do try my best to look nice for these sorts of things, you know. Warrior's pride, and all that."

"Mhm." She wraps an arm around my waist, and I drop one on her shoulders, as we continue our walk.

"Anything you want to do first?"

"Eat."

"How did I know?"

We get in line for some food, and get it soon enough. Miki took a hamburger, and I have chicken on a bed of fried rice.

I can tell she wants to say something about getting better nutrition, but I really like chicken and fried rice. Besides, she's the one with fast food.

Once we finish eating, and I throw the plates away, there's a surprise waiting for us. Mondo, his orange pompadour singling him out even more than his height, is leading my brothers around the grounds...looking for me, undoubtedly.

"MONDO!" I bellow, getting his attention, and all of their faces brighten.

We meet in the middle of the field, clasping hands and clapping one another on the back. "Ya bastard, do ya know how hard it is to look for ya in here?"

"Don't even lie, you were trying to see if you could ditch my brothers and get a date."

"No I wasn', an' ya know it." I do, but that doesn't stop me from laughing.

"Some of 'em had to have caught your eye. You're not picky, even if you're loud and scare them away."

"Okay, there were one or two, but I was gonna find ya first and then maybe go after 'em later. Probably not, given how I get."

He's not exactly a dreamy kind of guy, not by any girl's standards. I'm pretty sure the only girls who'd be able to stand him are the ones who run with other motorcycle gangs; he scares all the others off. It's a real shame, he's a gentleman at heart.

We catch up over the course of the next couple hours, wandering around the school grounds. "I knocked that tree down with my bare hands." I tell my brothers, and Mondo gives a low whistle of appreciation.

"That's a damn big stump."

"Was a damn big tree, too. If the wind had been blowing the wrong way, it probably would've fallen on me."

"Lucky I got you, then, huh?"

I give Miki a look. "What do you...no way."

"Yeah. Kind of. You didn't even realize it, did you?"

She moved me out of the way as the tree fell. There's no way she can lift me, is there? Although...she wouldn't need to lift me. Not really. She'd just need to drag me. Maybe she caught me as I fell.

"Are you serious?"

"It seemed like a shame to let your life just...end...so I didn't let it. The tree barely clipped your toes, and I dragged you to the other side of it. I fell asleep, but I woke up when you started to move."

"One-handed."

"I put it under your shoulders."

Goddamn, but I love this woman. The thought hits me before I can do anything about it, as does the motion to kiss her. I move both arms around her in a forceful press, drawing her in, and it feels almost like I'm trying to inhale her insides with the kiss we're sharing.

"Holy shit." She says after we separate. "I should save your life more often."

"You are a fool, and I love you for it."

I don't think my mind registers that I said "I love you," even though Miki, Mondo, and my brothers clearly do. I don't care, either. If she doesn't love me, so what? I can wait until she does. That's the point of taking a relationship seriously, isn't it? Finding out if you love someone, enough to spend your life with them?

Jake bows. "Nice to meet you, big sis!"

Oh, good fucking graces.

Lucas, for his part, has the decency to do what I'd do in his situation. He nods curtly.

"Oh my god, you're dating. Miki is your girlfriend."

"Good to know someone else from back home remembers me." She replies. There's something off in her voice, in the way he looks at her.

"I'd be an idiot to forget helping you. It's probably the only time a girl's ever let me take her anywhere."

Part of me wants to know, but part of me says I already do; it's been staring at me, almost in the face, for the better part of a year.

"Your hand."

"Cut it open one day, didn't think much of it." Miki says. "Waited a few days, but it got infected instead of healing up. On the way to the hospital, dad's car broke down, and Mondo stopped when he saw us waving for help. I was fine with it, but dad didn't trust him, and-"

"We got in a fight. I won." Mondo interjects. "I ended up takin' em both to the hospital. Got arrested for beatin' him up."

He never did tell me what he'd been sent to jail for. Weird, that all the puzzle pieces are coming together like this.

"I ended up needing my hand amputated, and my dad eventually got released from the hospital. We don't really talk much anymore, which I'm fine with."

"She gave me hell for helping you over the break." I tell Mondo. "Yelling, crying, the works. At least now it sort of makes sense."

For the rest of the day, we drop the subject, and simply enjoy the company that each of us brings to the others.

"Do you guys want to go down into town, or just stay here? There'll be fireworks at the end, and we'll see them best from..." I grin, looking to Miki and then my brothers. "...say, how do you guys feel about hiking?"

They all seem intrigued, so I lead them onward.

We go on an uphill trek, and it almost feels like we're climbing a mountain instead of a big hill. After another five minutes, all the trees clear, but there's still a little climbing to be done before we reach the best view.

"Do you guys want to stop here, or keep going to the top?"

"Are we even on school grounds anymore?" Miki asks, panting.

"Yeah."

"Let's keep going." Lucas says.

"I'll carry 'em." Mondo picks Jake up, putting the little fifth-grader on his shoulders, and he pulls Lucas up to keep walking.

Soon enough, we're there. Nobody else around, with total silence, as the sun starts to set. My brothers and Miki are recovering from the half-hour of walking, while Mondo and I are playing rock-paper-scissors and flipping coins to pass the time. We stop when there's nothing but the moon and stars to light our vision, but it doesn't stay that way for long.

We hear, rather than see, the first of the rockets shoot into the sky...but all of us are looking at it when it blows, a bright scarlet color that sears my eyes before vanishing. A brilliant white one is next, and then a dazzling green. They come slowly, at first, then faster, and even faster, making patterns in the sky that make my brothers gasp and Mondo give a slack-jawed expression. Miki and I hold hands, and I can't think of how this night could be better. I've been reunited with my brothers again, probably my best friend as well, and my girlfriend is here with me.

After almost ten minutes, the longest fireworks show I've ever seen in my life, the final volley is launched and explodes with all the force of a thunderclap. Every imaginable color, it seems, is lighting up the sky in that brief moment...and then it's done.

It's a much shorter journey back, going downhill, only taking about ten minutes.

"It's been good seein' ya." Mondo says. "I'll keep 'em straight." We clasp hands again, and clap each other on the back.

"Good bye." Jake hugs me, and then he unexpectedly hugs Miki as well. "Be nice to my brother!"

Lucas and I slam our fists into the other's arm, and then into the opposite fist. He and I, we need no words. When I visited, a few months ago, we said all we needed to say; those words don't bear repeating, especially not in public. It's a sacred sort of bond, a warrior's oath.

We watch them drive off, into the darkness of the night, and part of me...part of Miki as well, I'd assume...wants to go with them.

My place is here, though. For now, at least, this is where the battles of my life will be fought.

With Miki by my side, I know I'll win.


	14. Miki, Act Three: Heading For Tomorrow

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

The day after the festival is sluggish, long, and nobody really wants to be here. We want to be asleep, in bed, and anyone who's religious would pray that there's no school tomorrow.

Shame that religion never gets you anywhere, of course. Doesn't matter if you believe in one god, or older, pagan gods; if they did exist, I'd have killed them. I have a problem with "higher powers," no matter where their authority might stem from. Once you bring them down, though, and prove they're not so powerful...they tend to not be too bad.

It's a crazy, lazy day. We get out from school, and literally nobody is around.

We're all in our dorm rooms, trying to get some sleep. I join those masses gladly, willingly, not even needing my medication to lose consciousness.

* * *

I wake up to find Miki standing over me. "C'mon, James."

"What...? Where?" I'm still groggy, and try to shake it off, but it's hard. Harder than usual.

"Nowhere."

All of my friends surround me suddenly, as do my brothers. Each of them reaches out with their hand, save for Rin's unmoving form, but somehow their faces show anything but concern. In a split second, before anything can happen, I feel rage well up inside of me.

_So all ye sinners, this is the prophecy._

The dream, because that's all that this nonsense could be, fades to black. Replacing it comes a terrible vision, a nightmare, a future that cannot be and must not be.

_A revelation of your own destiny._

The earth burns, and I sit watching it from my throne of skulls, but the lake around me has turned from water to blood. All around me, corpses are piled, and then there are crosses; bodies hang upon them, the dead who I recognize.

_You had a dream once, a dream that you have sold._

All around me, the piled corpses have taken the face of my father. They grin at me, mocking my power, because of the crucified...those I could not save. Those I killed.

_And now, my brothers, annihilation is foretold._

Emi, with no ankles to pierce, has a spike driven through her gut. I can see the tracks that tears made in her final moments. Rin hangs with an iron shackle around her throat, since she can't be nailed by the wrists. Her eyes, those melancholic greens, bore into my soul and judge me. Lilly's head is bowed, her frizzy blonde hair shadowing her face; her pale skin has taken a deathly pallor. Hanako hangs from her left side only, some cruel mockery of her scarring, and in her last moments she seems to have thrashed wildly.

_So all ye sinners, this is the prophecy. The revelations of your own destiny._

Jake's dead face begs, asking why his hero would do this to him. I have no answers. Lucas' eyes are closed, in understanding and acceptance of his fate. Mondo's chest was opened, his ribs broken out, his lungs spread like an eagle's wings, and he died the warrior's death. He died with all his passion, all of his rage showing, screaming into the wind.

_Sleep well, and dream on, a dream that you have sold._

Miki's eyes haunt me, her face gaunt, pain and suffering etched into every inch of skin she has. I want to bellow my rage, ask how this could have happened, I want to tear down their deaths and bring them back to the world of the living...but I am the king, the Unbroken Warrior. I aid no man, save myself. I kill all who stand before me because I will do so unto my death, and there are none who can fight and win against me.

_And now, my brothers, this world is slowly getting cold._

I rise from my bleach-white throne, walking on the surface of the blood-lake until I reach the nearest crucifix. One by one, I knock each wooden cross down. Somehow, the act only increases my misery. They fall into the pool of liquid life, blood staining their skin and their eyes. They judge me in the way that only the dead may, that only the dead can do. I sink to my knees on the shore, the cracked and broken earth beneath me echoing my state.

This world of mine has become a dry and dusty husk, a shell of former glory that's now long-gone. All that lives has died; though my heart continues to beat and my body refuses to stop moving, I have died as well. These remnants of my past, of my former self, are all that remain of the man who won a thousand battles. No longer am I James Slae'im the warrior, the destroyer, and so this world reached its apex before crumbling. I am James Slae'im the friend, the helper, who needs to bring life out from this land of death and pain.

There's only one way to do that, though, and I'm not ready. Not yet. Something tells me that, even if it's only once more, I'm going to need the warrior. Within this world, where slain gods stand guard, the earth will drink blood again.

Only once more, however. That will be the price of my glory, I tell myself: an unwillingness, or perhaps just a flat-out inability, to fight after that final battle is done. Then my inner demon will rest, at long last, and I can make laughter come where cries of fear once echoed.

Until that day, however, my final battle looms ahead.

* * *

I wake with a jolt of shock, though I rein in the gasp before it can leave my lips.

"What kind of dream...?" It felt so vivid, so real. I had felt the faces of the dead, I had watched blood color their features a shining red.

It felt like a warning, almost. Some sort of precognition that, if I don't change who I am, all my friends will...die? Leave me?

That's the problem with interpreting dreams: they can be very vague.

Something, at the end, about a final battle.

Maybe I will need to change myself because, otherwise, _I _might be the one to die?

Just from thinking about it, my head hurts, so I look at the clock to see that I still have a couple hours before I would show up and be counted present in homeroom.

I go back to sleep, and this time it's thankfully a dreamless one.

Waking up, I trudge to class with the duty and sense of purpose you'd expect from a student, but I have to hold the flame and the void for the first time in weeks just to get through the halls.

That dream took a lot more out of me than the rest my body got from it, apparently.

I squeeze Miki's hand as we walk to class.

"Something wrong?" She asks.

"No, not really. I'm just kinda...weirded out. I'll tell you later." My reply comes, and she gives me a concerned look before hearing I'll talk about it eventually.

Then she becomes more concerned.

"Put it out of your mind. You need to focus today...midterms are coming up, and all that, you know?"

She smiles. "Yeah...yeah, I can do that. Promise you'll tell, though, after class?"

"...promise." She knows how much I hate that word, the idea it entails. Promises are not things I enjoy.

* * *

"I had a dream." I say. "It started out weird, and then it got twisted into a nightmare. The world was...broken. Everyone was dead, except me."

She's silent.

"You, and my friends, and my brothers, were crucified by my hand."

"It was just a dream."

"No, you don't...it...I feel like it wasn't. It was some kind of warning."

"I thought you didn't believe in gods."

"I believe in power, and psychics fall under that. I don't know what it was, or anything like that, but...one last fight. That's the feeling I got. One final fight, one ultimate battle. Everything's riding on me, somehow. If I lose, I die...but if I win, in a wrong way, then I could lose you and all the rest of my friends. There's three paths to pick, and I need to pick correctly."

"I won't try arguing with you then."

"That never ends well anyway."

"No, but hopefully you'd come to your senses and agree with me. It's just a dream, James. Don't worry so much about it."

I hang my head, and the silence between us is slightly more charged. Not angry, not negative, just...energized. Something's changed, but not for better or worse. It's hard to put into words.

Miki leaves my room without needing to be told to, though she gives me a kiss first. Once she closes the door, I throw myself back into the work I've neglected; not my schoolwork, of course, but the fact that I haven't worked on the style developments for handicapped martial arts in a few days.

* * *

After my visit to the nurse the next day, to check on the few bones that still remain bones in my body, I head into town by myself. Ducking into the Shanghai, I find that it's empty, though Yuuko is surprisingly waiting to wait on people.

"Shouldn't you be at the school's library?"

"Oh!" She says, woken from her reverie by my words. I guess she didn't hear the bell go off, and was spacing out. Not that I'd blame her, I'd let my imagination run wild too if I were sitting at a table and waiting for something to happen. "Sorry!"

"It's alright, Yuuko."

"Are...are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's all good." I slip into my more casual speech, and give her a small smile. "To be honest, I came here because I wasn't sure of where else to go."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Hmm...I guess, since I'm here and all. Are you even technically open?"

I realize now that I completely missed the "CLOSED" sign hanging out front, but the door was unlocked, so I'm not really sure what to make of it.

"Well...no...but I wouldn't really have the power to make you get out, and it's getting close to opening..."

The place doesn't open for another fifteen minutes, which seems fine to me.

"Alright. Should I wait until then, and come back, or-"

"No, no, it's fine!" She says.

"Okay then. I'll have tea...uh...you know, I'll let you pick the flavor. I don't have much preference, to be honest."

It's really just a way to dodge, to think more and talk with people less, but...maybe Yuuko can actually help me, if I tell her about this?

When she comes back, I gesture for her to sit down. It looks like she already assumed that she would, though, having made herself a cup of tea as well. Part of me thinks that was a little bold of a move for someone as timid as Yuuko, but I doubt I'd have refused her company even if I didn't want to talk to her.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Um...I guess it depends on the question."

"I'm having some difficulty. I feel like there's three paths I can take, and I have to choose with almost no recognition of what's going on. One path leads to my death, one path leads to the loss of everything I care about, and the third path ends with being permanently changed for the rest of my life. I have to pick one, but I don't want to pick, and I don't know which one to choose."

"Well...I don't know you that well, but you don't seem like the kind of person who would just choose to die."

The memory comes back to me, riding the motorcycle and approaching the bridge...but even then, with all the opportunity I'd needed, I hadn't done it.

"Also, even if it means changing, do you really think it would be worth losing everything you love? Not all change is bad, either."

My face hardens for a second. "Mhm."

"Ah...did I say something wrong?"

"No." It's true, she didn't. I don't know what I could've been expecting, but that's probably it. "I just...I need some more time to think, that's all. Hopefully, I'll get it figured out."

I give her a fake grin, and Yuuko's face lights up into an uneasy smile as well.

Once I pay for my tea, and leave Yuuko a very generous tip, I leave. After I get back to my room, I collapse on my bed and sleep for the rest of the day.


	15. Miki, Act Three: Wheels of Confusion

**I apologize for my absence, it wasn't intended.**

**Let's get this trainwreck moving.**

* * *

After school, I gather everyone who'd showed interest in learning martial arts. I've got it at least part of the way down, though I'm not done yet...but this should be enough to prove to them that, yes, I am working on it.

I give them printed manuals of what I have so far, and show them what each individual stance or action is. Then, as they go through the motions, I'm there to correct their forms...generally at the shoulders and the ankles, the same as everyone learning how to fight for the first time. A couple of them have no difficulties, and it makes me think that they may have been people like me before they were sent here. Maybe they tried and failed, or maybe they succeeded and they just want to see if I will as well.

I'd need to ask them about their lives first, though.

We continue until it's close to dark, at which point people start to break off from the group in order to do homework or sleep. After that, I call it off, and round up the five who were having no trouble with their stances.

"You were fighters at some point. Before you came here."

They nod, one by one.

"Anything specific you've done since then? What styles?"

One was a brown belt in Karate, the second had black belts in Wing Chun and Tae Kwon Do. The third had a black belt in Jujitsu. The fourth had a black belt in Kendo and a brown belt in Kung Fu. The fifth had a second-level black belt in Karate.

"I fought you, once." Jin, the fifth, said. "Before you learned the meaning of peace."

"I still don't know if I understand that meaning." I reply.

"You were a demon of a man." He goes on. "I broke your arm, and you cracked my jaw with it in retaliation, like you didn't even know it'd snapped."

Ah, I remember that fight now. "When I fight, there's nothing. Only me, and my opponent. Nothing else matters...not pain, not fear, not any of the watchers, not the people who might get in the way. I don't have the time to focus on anything but victory."

It had been a good fight. He'd put up one of the best defenses I'd run across, but pure power had won the day for me.

"You did much better than some of the others I've faced, before or since then."

Even with a missing...come to think of it, all that he's missing is his thumb and ring finger on his left hand.

"You don't need to be here, though, so...why are you? I'm developing styles for those with limb handicaps."

He grins.

"You can take the need for the fighter out of the ring..." He begins the phrase.

"...but you can't take the need for the ring out of the fighter." I finish. "So that's how it is."

"Yeah, that's how it is."

I hold up a fist, outstretched towards him, and he does the same. There's no need for contact. Our score is settled, we will not fight again, but we are not victor and loser; we are equals, now, by circumstance and time.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Miki asks, concerned.

"Not really."

It feels like there's a wedge partially driven between us. It's there, sure enough, since we're not really connecting...but it's driven in just poorly enough that we can still feel for one another. I get the feeling that it's my actions pushing the block down, that I'm somehow creating this distance that's growing between us, but I can't help it. It's who I am.

If we aren't meant to work out, then we won't work out. It's that simple. I'll be sad for it, but what will be, that's what will be. No use worrying about the future when it's the present that makes that future. No use worrying about the past that you can't change, because that's what led you to the present.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

She frowns.

"You never want to talk about much, anymore. I'm starting to think something really is wrong."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking. For me, it's hard to talk and think at the same time."

"Thinking about what? You've never done a lot of that."

I ignore the insult, though it's more of an honest truth.

"My place in the world. Who I am. Where I am, mentally and physically."

"And have you found anything out?" Her questions are unwanted, but I will suffer them if I must.

"My place...or, rather, the place for the person I once was...is gone now, it's not there. I want to say that's a bad thing, but I can't go back to being who I was before this happened to me."

"So you feel lost?"

Not physically. Mentally, I've had a while to adjust to having metal bones, but facing the potential consequences here and now is...difficult, for some reason. I've always been able to adapt quickly, but this is different somehow.

"Yes and no. I know where I stand, I think I know what the future will be like, but the problem is getting to that future...it always has been."

She raises an eyebrow.

"A future with you." I put the words bluntly, and continue before she can stop me. "And yet, as close as we've become, it feels like I'm doing something that's pulling us apart...but I can't figure out what that is."

"You've just had a couple bad days." Miki shrugs off my worries, in the same manner I usually do. "We're still together, neither of us is dead, we still have plenty of time to worry about what comes next."

She gets up and kisses me before leaving my room; after she closes the door, the reality of the situation hits me: I'm worried about things that I don't seem to have any control over, because I'm so used to being in power that I don't know how it feels to be anywhere else but the top of the chain. Is this what normal people feel like? Caring about things that they can't decide?

I can't live like this, worrying about everything. Death would be better...no, it wouldn't. Death would be easier. I don't take the easy way out. If I'm truly intent on dying, I'll have to do it the hard way, the long way.

Fine, then, let problems come. I will face them, just as with any other enemy, and I will end them in the same manner.

And still, the three-path choice looms over my head.

* * *

"Follow the butterfly." Rin says, laying on her back and staring at the sky. "The butterfly doesn't care, doesn't worry...just like you and me. It just flies. Like that feeling where you do something because you can, not because you have to or you have something to like about doing the thing that you're doing."

I laugh, not understanding what she means, but it's fine that I don't. Rin is my friend. That's all I need to care about in this moment. My eyes do track the butterfly, though, as it flits back and forth, rising and falling against the backdrop of the sky. Unexpectedly, it's somewhat calming. That calmness is what allows me to ask her my question.

"Rin...I feel like I'm facing three roads. One leads to death, one leads to change, and one leads to loss. I was wondering if you might have any thoughts on my course of action."

"Well...from an artist's point of view, change is...bad. You don't just become different, modify your style. You...change is bad. Fighting was your art form, right? You've been forced to change, and you don't like it, and you don't want to change further. Loss...death...those are acceptable. I would destroy myself, if my art required it. You _did _destroy yourself, when your art required it. You refused to lose, you were forced to change because others wanted you to avoid death. Unless you're different from you were then...changed by your change, as it were...then I would think your path is self-evident."

That lucidity, the seriousness in her voice, is unexpected; ironically, it's almost surreal. The sheer boldness and simplicity, as though telling one of her only friends to go headlong to his death was an everyday occurrence...her conviction. I used to have something like that, before I came here. The knowledge to do what was to be done, to let the consequences come. Has my time here at Yamaku softened me? Am I incapable of carrying out my own annihilation if that is what's required of me?

"Thank you, Rin. I don't know if it's what I wanted or needed to hear, but I'm glad I heard it. I get the feeling that it won't be very long now until my final choice gets made..."

She stares at me, right in the eyes, with her typical "not quite melancholic" look. Almost as if...as if haunted by something, anything, that might have been. Something between us, perhaps? I'm her only male friend, as far as I know, so the fact that she'd think about that wouldn't be too out of the question. Unfortunately, it's just another thing which could have been...no longer something that is a possibility. Not something I'd think to be in the foreseeable future, either, if I follow the logic that her words are tempting me with.

Still, though, the choice has yet to come. I still have time to understand what must be done.

When the bell rings, and we head back inside, I'm still a little shaken up by the way she said those words. I tell myself that I shouldn't be, but the fact remains that I am; I just need to accept it and deal with it.

* * *

"You're getting better, physically." The nurse says it with a smile, though he and I both know I already knew that. "I'm worried for your mentality, though. If what I've been hearing is true, then I don't know how you'll manage. Coming up with martial arts for the handicapped?"

"No one should be denied the way to inner peace. If my art, as it were, can guide them...who would I be to deny them that serenity?"

"I've seen your file. Hell, kid, I even looked up a couple of your matches that were taped. There's nothing peaceful about you."

"No, there wasn't, but I've tried to become different."

"Trying, and doing, are different things."

"Are you actually trying to goad me into a fight?"

"No, I'm trying to see if you're still sane. You, a fighter who did things so brutal that I actually wish I could un-view them, talk of bringing peace to your peers? Physically challenged ones, at that? I won't question your mission, but the fact remains that I'm more than a little dubious of your true intentions. If any of them get hurt, I'm going to hold you responsible."

"I wouldn't expect anything less of you, or anyone else who doesn't understand the meaning of my peace."

I would almost swear that the nurse glares at me, but it might have been a trick of the light.

"Go on, then. We're done for the day, I'm too young to be talking philosophy." He laughs, smiling, tilting his head back.

I leave his office, not sure whether I should count this as a victory or if I could consider it a fight at all.

In my dreams, only fire and blood await.


End file.
